


Revenge of the Text

by MittenWraith



Series: Everything is Text [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Castiel is Saved from the Empty (Supernatural), Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Free Will, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, POV Alternating, canon divergence from near the end of s15e19 Inherit The Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28687836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/pseuds/MittenWraith
Summary: Picking up from right after Jack waves goodbye in 15.19, he knows there's a lot of work to do. After everything he's learned and been through in his short life, there's a few people he needs to see as he replaces Chuck's power structure with something that can truly carry on. His mom believed in him, and Castiel believed he could create a paradise. Only Jack's not sure he knows what that would mean. One thing he does know is that it would have to be a world where people were free to choose their own happiness. He can finally make that happen, for all of the people he's called family. Oh, and there are some definite drawbacks to omniscience...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: Everything is Text [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102754
Comments: 122
Kudos: 241





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! I've been working on this since the finale aired, and I think it's finally done. Or, at least this installment is done. I like to think of this as opening a door into a beautiful post-canon world where I can come back again and again to write more adventures for all of these characters. I know it's not perfect, and there's so many characters I've likely left out, but I want to eventually get around to addressing all of them. My intent here was to write something episode-ish (well, maybe this fits in the framework of a very special two hour series finale presentation sort of episode, at any rate), with a bit of a coda fic style chapter at the end. I wanted to deliberately leave this as open-ended as possible, in contrast to the finale so many of us have flicked way like some sort of irritating bug. I hope folks reading this will find as much comfort and catharsis as I've had writing it. :)

The drive out of town was melancholy. Quiet. They’d shared out a quick round of phone calls and text messages to Charlie, Donna, Jody, Claire, and everyone else they could think of just to make sure everyone was back where they belonged, and that everyone knew the danger was well and truly over before pulling out of town and heading vaguely toward home.

Dean certainly hadn’t fully processed everything that had happened in the last few days, and he was sure Sam hadn’t either. His stomach growled, and suddenly Dean couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten. Before Chuck, before Billie, before… He couldn’t think about that yet. There was just too much to deal with. Like his stomach growling again. First objective was finding something to eat, and then worry about if he’d actually be able to keep it down.

Dean risked a glance over at his brother in the passenger seat, staring down at the black screen of his phone--waiting on something or trying to make up his mind about something, Dean wasn’t sure. Sam would tell him eventually, or he could use it to change the subject if Sam bothered to try poking through his feelings instead of dealing with his own. Instead of pushing, Dean cleared his throat and hoped his voice wouldn’t break.

“So, you wanna stop for food? We should--”

Sam nodded, switching his dazed focus out the windshield to watch the forest roll past before sighing and looking back down at his phone. “Still gotta eat.”

Dean let the conversation drop for a while. He wasn’t really any more in a mood for talking yet than Sam was. He could keep his eyes on the road and look for someplace where they could grab a quick bite in peace, and then get back on the road home.

It would’ve felt less ominous a destination if Jack had been coming back with them, but now even he was gone. Sure, there were a lot more people they should probably be checking in on, but Dean was equal parts worried that not everyone had made it back, and afraid any of them might ask about Cas. The last any of them knew, Cas was… well… he was still alive. He’d managed to dodge questions from the few people he’d spoken with, claiming exhaustion and a long drive, and trusted they’d handle the rest for now. He could give them better answers when he was home.

For the first time in years, the thought of home sent a chill down his spine. Maybe going back to the bunker right away wasn’t actually the best idea, he considered. Not so much for what might be there, but what he knew would never be there again.

As dusk began to fall, he mercifully spotted a roadside diner and pulled into the parking lot, startling Sam out of whatever quandary had occupied him.

“Look okay to you?” he asked, not bothering to get out of the car yet.

Sam glanced up at him, and then at the building in front of them, seemingly surprised that they’d even come to a stop.

“Yeah, anything’s better than nothing,” he replied, setting his phone on the seat and getting out of the car without it.

Dean frowned down at the phone and shot his brother’s back a concerned look as he disappeared inside the diner. Whatever, if he was ending his weird blank screen vigil, at least maybe they could break through their steadily less comfortable silence. Dreading and bracing for it in equal measure, Dean heaved a sigh and followed Sam inside.

There was only one other patron in the diner, sitting at the opposite end of the long counter where Sam stood poring over the laminated specials menu. Dean glanced down at it and was relieved he didn’t have to think too hard about what to order. The first thing on the menu would do as well as anything else. He slumped onto the nearest stool in hopes that sitting out in the open like that might put a hold on appetite killing conversation at least long enough to fill his stomach.

When Sam sat down beside him, a pang of relief zinged through him. They could work their way up to dealing with shit with a bit of meaningless chatter with the waitress. She came over with a smile and two glasses of ice water she set down in front of them. Her brow pinched up as she got a good look at them.

“You boys look like someone ran over your dog.”

Dean couldn’t help the bitter laugh, but softened it with a pasted on smile. “And that’s the least of our troubles today.” He’d had a dog for a hot minute, until Chuck decided to steal that from them too. At least the dick would never force them into another apocalypse, or take anything else from them. He’d already taken enough.

The woman frowned at him, but before she could pry any further, Sam spoke up.

“I’ll have the chicken salad sandwich on rye with a side of fries.”

Dean blinked at his brother. “No salad?”

Sam shook his head and huffed out an ugly laugh. “Not today.”

“So it really has been a doozy,” the waitress said, motherly and concerned. “You sure I can’t get you a milkshake to dunk those fries in?”

“No, ma’am, water will be fine.”

“If you change your mind about that, you let me know.” She turned to Dean then. “And what’ll you be having?”

“Meatloaf special,” he replied, earning a confused glance from Sam.

“You know that comes with actual vegetables on the side, right?” Sam asked, and Dean shrugged.

“Maybe it’s time I started thinking about vitamins and cholesterol,” he replied.

“Good for you,” the waitress replied kindly, before collecting their menus and heading back to the kitchen with their order. “It’ll be out in just a few.”

All Dean could think about as he watched her disappear through the swinging door was that Cas would probably be relieved that he was trying to take better care of himself. The thought both made him smile and felt like a punch to the gut. He was definitely not ready to dig through those feelings yet. Unfortunately, Sam was still staring a hole in the side of his head.

“What?” Dean asked, and then decided to preempt whatever lecture Sam was gearing up for. “Gotta start thinking about living now, and if that means eating occasional rabbit food, it’s not gonna kill me. I mean, no apocalypse on the horizon, we got maybe decades of freedom in our future. Maybe we can start living like that’s true.”

Sam blinked at him, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he slouched down in his seat like he hadn’t even gotten around to considering that yet.

“You’re right, you know.” He looked up with the first smile Dean had seen cross his face since Jack disappeared. Like some of the burden he’d carried on his excessively large shoulders had fallen away. He snorted out a little laugh. “I keep waiting for Eileen to text me, but she can’t because we have her phone. She’s probably gonna be pissed when I finally get it back to her.” His smile turned fond, though, like he was already running through mental scenarios on what he’d say to her when he got to her place. “We’ve got her house keys, her car keys. Hell, she’s probably walking toward the bunker, pissed that all her stuff was just gone when she came back.”

“Yeah, but she’ll be glad you held on to it for her,” Dean offered. “We can swing by her place on the way home and see if we can’t find her.”

Anything, honestly, to delay going back to the empty bunker quite yet. As much as he’d tried to shove it down, his voice must’ve betrayed him because Sam gave him a funny look and then his eyes went wide.

“I’ve been obsessing over Eileen all this time, and didn’t even think about Cas. Has he texted you yet?”

Dean shrugged and stared up at the lights above the counter for a moment before squeezing his eyes shut. He hoped his voice wouldn’t betray him again.

“I… I don’t know if he’s coming back this time. Chuck didn’t snap him away. He let the Empty take him fair and square.”

“And you don’t think Jack would’ve brought him back?” Sam asked, quietly but incredulously.

Dean shrugged and fidgeted with the knife and fork on the clean white napkin in front of him.

“I’m not sure he even could.”

Sam sat there for a moment, nodding to himself. “He brought him back once before, when he didn’t even know he could.”

In his heart of hearts, Dean wanted to believe that, to hold onto hope. He’d been too terrified to ask Jack directly. It would only have made it hurt worse if he’d flat-out said no. Luckily their food arrived, and the little scoop of broccoli and carrots wilting beside the generous slice of meatloaf and mountain of gravy smothered potatoes gave him something less earth-shattering to think about for a little while.

Their food gone and the bill paid, Dean walked out with an entire pecan pie as a reward for actually eating all the dreaded vegetables. Sam grumbled at him for it but agreed that saving the world was a good enough excuse for that sort of extravagant indulgence.

The second they got back in the car, Sam frantically checked his phone, clearly regretting not having brought it with him. There was still no word from Eileen, and Dean was beginning to wonder if Jack had even brought her back. She’d only been fully alive before the snap because of Chuck’s interference, but then again she’d only died the first time for the same reason.

If she was really gone forever, then Dean couldn’t really hold out hope for Cas, so he spent the rest of the drive to Eileen’s house doing whatever he could to support and reassure Sam that she was probably standing on the sidewalk pissed that he’d stolen her keys.

“She’s a hunter, though,” Dean assured him. “She can pick a lock and hotwire a car. It’s not like we left her totally helpless.”

This reminder seemed to calm Sam’s nerves, and helped them get through the next few hours on the road. As they pulled into her neighborhood, Dean struggled to hide his nerves. He hadn’t really confronted just how much of his own hopes he’d pinned to finding Eileen alive and well. Even if she was standing on the sidewalk, impatiently tapping her foot waiting for them, it still wasn’t a guarantee that he’d find Cas waiting for him at the bunker, but it would at least give him enough hope to get him the rest of the way home to his whiskey stash before he’d give up hope entirely.

Not long after he accepted the grim reality likely in store for him, they pulled up in front of Eileen’s house to find her taping a note to her own front door. Even from the road out front, Dean could clearly see the words FOR SAM written in big bold letters on the front of the paper. Eileen turned around just as Sam leaped from the car before Dean could even come to a full stop. The look on her face as Sam barreled toward her with his arms outstretched nearly broke Dean’s heart. He hadn’t seen anyone look so relieved and happy since… well… since he’d last seen Cas.

While Sam and Eileen had their joyous reunion on her front steps, Dean did something he hadn’t done since Purgatory. He prayed.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack felt himself stretching out across the universe and settling into each molecule in creation. The world sighed in relief as he breathed it all in and let it all go again. Breathing had been something he’d never really noticed to that extent, but now he could feel the pulse of every living thing like freshly oxygenated blood cells restored and invigorated as the essential divinity of all things settled back into its rightful place. The ebb and flow of existence threatened to overwhelm him completely and he fought not to lose himself in the cosmic tide. The Earth was whole again, but he had a few last things he needed to take care of before he could finally rest, and he needed to be himself to do it.

He knew that Dean was driving, and Sam was worried about Eileen, but they would find her soon enough. The thought left him happy as he extended himself into the realm formerly known as Purgatory. He felt nothing there but endless, brutal hunger and recoiled from the sheer violence and cruelty of the place. The very air twisted even the most civilized residents into warriors, and turned the kindest beings to bloodsport.

Amara unfurled inside him, eager to heal what should’ve been one of her realms of blissful peace that her brother had twisted into this place of monstrousness and eternal battle. She reached out through Jack and infused her essence into the land, restoring a peace that Purgatory had never known. She gave the inhabitants what they had lost on Earth, with a dose of the humanity she’d learned from exploring their original world. It might never be perfect, but the souls destined for this realm would never have to choose between survival and contentment again. As they were touched by her influence, the leviathan simply ceased to be. Their devouring darkness held no power against her vastness. The rest of the denizens could finally stop battling for survival and vengeance and spite, and lay those burdens down for good.

Jack was satisfied. Amara subsided within him, and he moved on to his next project.

Hell had been a place of punishment and exile since its inception, in direct opposition to God’s Heaven. The illusion of Hell’s stony walls and torture chambers were no less a construct of convenience than Heaven’s white hallways and cubicles. The only difference was the nature of the basic experience.

For their perceived crimes during life, souls in hell were expected to burn for an eternity of regret and damnation. It hardly seemed fair that there could never be a reprieve from the torture, aside from those whose souls would eventually be slashed and twisted into demons. And suffering the loss of their own humanity seemed a poor reward for enduring centuries of torment. Jack knew all too well what it felt like to lose one’s soul, and Hell was effectively a factory for doing just that. Unlike in Purgatory, he knew someone here he needed to talk with before enacting sweeping changes.

Jack manifested himself right outside the throne room doors, and then raised one hand to knock politely. A voice from inside called out, “Enter!” and Jack pushed the massive doors open. Rowena sat on the throne, holding a dainty tea cup in one hand while a plate of chocolates rested beside her on the arm of the massive chair. When she looked up and saw who’d disturbed her snack, her eyes went wide and she nearly dropped her cup.

“Jack?” Rowena fumbled to set the cup down and practically ran up to him, holding her hands up like she was debating whether to take him by the shoulders or envelop him in a hug and couldn’t decide if either was even remotely appropriate. “Is that you? What are you doing here? Is anything the matter? You’re not…”

Jack smiled at her and raised one hand in greeting. “Hello, Auntie Rowena. Everything is fine.” He considered that reply, made out of habit, but for once it wasn’t the euphemism for  _ nothing at all is even remotely fine _ that Dean tended to mean when he used the phrase. “It’s much better than fine, actually. And no, I’m not dead.”

Rowena let out a breath of relief at that. “Oh, well that’s good. The last thing those Winchesters need is for you to up and die on them again. Nearly killed them all last time it happened. They don’t tend to do well with people sacrificing themselves in their name. And I should know! Last time I saw them, they were still a mess over it, and I’m not sure they ever liked me half as much as you.” She gave him a sly little smile, but the sadness in her eyes gave her true feelings away. “Here, where are my manners. Have a chocolate, m’boy, and tell Auntie Rowena what’s on your mind.”

Jack smiled at her and looked down at the plate she’d offered him. The plate itself was decorated with a motif of ravens and bones, and contained an assortment of fancy chocolate truffles. He frowned down at them, sensing the shiny green one in the shape of a leaf was filled with pistachio cream, while a red glazed mound contained raspberry cordial. Among the selection was nothing remotely like the vending machine nougat he’d been accustomed to, but he wanted to please Rowena. He picked a hazelnut truffle and dutifully shoved it in his mouth while Rowena cooed at him approvingly. Pleasantries having been accomplished, Jack moved on to business.

“We won,” he said, without further elaboration.

“Beg pardon?” Rowena asked, and then her mouth dropped open when she realized what he meant. “You mean… you… you killed God?”

Jack shrugged. “Not killed, so much as Amara and I now have his power. We’re balanced now, and so is the rest of the universe.” He reached up and rubbed his chest as if the tiny chocolate had given him indigestion, but he was merely soothing the Darkness inside him. “Well, we’re working on it. Earth is whole again, and Purgatory has been settled. I didn’t feel right about making any changes in Hell without at least talking to you first, though.”

Rowena snorted, slumping back in her throne. “I barely run the place as it is. And that’s mostly out of my own innate talent for self-preservation. Queen of the damned is a hell of a lot better than just being another nobody in a long parade of the damned.”

Jack tilted his head and regarded her for a moment. “You should never have been damned at all. You gave everything to try to make the world right. Because you believed it was the right thing to do.”

“Aye, and it was, wasn’t it? Even if it wasn’t enough,” she replied wistfully. “But I knew my fate when I made that choice. I knew where I’d end up.”

Jack shook his head. “You didn’t have a choice. Not really.”

She studied him for a moment, and nodded, speaking more quietly. “Damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.”

“Which was exactly how Chuck set it up to be. He used you, just like he used so many others, because it was convenient for the story he was telling. He wanted to use you to hurt Sam, and it worked. He used all of us to hurt each other for his entertainment. But now that he’s powerless to hurt any of us again, I still have his power, and I’m going to make everything right that he broke before letting the universe go back to running on its own.”

Rowena smiled at him, not quite understanding what his intentions were. “So, you’re going to let Hell keep its doors open?”

Jack shrugged. “It has its place, but you’re right. People shouldn’t be tricked into selling their souls. If they are sent to Hell, it should be for the choices they make in life.”

“There’s more than enough evil in the world without demons mucking about with it,” she replied, nodding slowly. “I haven’t been letting them run rampant since I took over, but they are most definitely a difficult bunch to keep in line. Can you imagine that many of them don’t really like me all that much?” She smirked at Jack, and he grinned back at her.

“They don’t know what they’re missing, then,” he replied. “I know you’ve been making changes here, but what if I could help? Remake hell into a place where souls and demons still had a chance at redemption?”

Rowena blinked at him for moment, and then laughed. “Oh my dear sweet boy, you do know the kinds of souls that wind up in Hell generally aren’t compatible with redemption.”

“You are,” Jack said matter of factly.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, but a bit naïve.”

“I’m omniscient,” he replied, his brow pinching together. “Your soul is not beyond redemption. In fact--” he held up his hand as if he was going to reach for her cheek but stopped far short. “You shouldn’t be in Hell at all.”

Rowena froze for a moment, stunned by this. “Well, someone has to hold the place together…”

“All of creation is a part of me, now,” Jack told her. “You should never have had to fight as hard as you did just to survive, and you shouldn’t be damned to continue fighting for the rest of eternity because you chose to do the right thing.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she mashed her lips together in the effort to hold them back. Rowena took a few deep breaths and then nodded slowly, knowing Jack’s earnest look for what it was. He was omniscient, and knew everything about her, saw every stain on her soul and still judged her worthy.

“Thank you, Jack.”

“You’re welcome?”

She laughed at his confusion for a moment, and then composed herself as best she could. “So what are your plans for remodeling Hell.”

Without hesitation, Jack laid it out for her.

“The walls should come down. Souls will choose their own path. No torture, no more demons, only rest.”

“I can’t imagine letting billions of damned souls run free wouldn’t lead to chaos and power struggles and flat-out violence,” Rowena replied.

“None of them are damned if they are truly willing to repent. And many of them already do. I can feel it,” Jack said, waving a hand in front of himself like he could sense their collective agony in the air around them. “But they should be free to make their own choices, choose their own path forward, and Hell should make that possible for them. The worst of them may never repent, but their choices will dictate where they are, and where they can go. No soul should be forced to endure eternal suffering if they are free to make better choices for themselves.”

Rowena nodded slowly again, trying to picture this new more egalitarian Hell and how it would even work. “So what do you need from me to make this happen?”

Jack shrugged. “Nothing. It’s already happening. I wanted to see you and tell you personally, because you have always been kind to me, and you deserved to know the role you played in making this possible.”

“Hah! Who knew I’d accidentally do a favor for the new God? Chalk that up to the luckiest decision I ever made!”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Jack said, smiling. “You helped me when I was dying, and you were willing to sacrifice yourself to Michael to save our family, and then you did sacrifice yourself to save the world. Without you, none of this would’ve happened.” Jack frowned. “Although you did turn me into a dog once.”

“I turned you back!” Rowena said. “And for the record you were an adorable wee pup.”

“I was, wasn’t I,” he replied, grinning back at her. “But you’ve earned a true choice for once. No fate, no prophecy, no destiny. Tell me what you want. Because in the new Hell, you’d be offered a doorway that would take you to Heaven. You can still choose that, but I can bring you back to Earth instead, if you really want another chance to live, truly free. To make your own choices.”

“Go… back? Alive?” she asked, staring at the wall over Jack’s shoulder, trying to imagine what that would even mean for her now. “I don’t even know what I’d do with myself anymore. I spent hundreds of years doing nothing but trying to amass enough power to stay alive, and then once I got here it was just more of the same but with less reward and more regret.”

“Would… would you like a chance to do things differently?” Jack asked, unsure for the first time since becoming omniscient, and rather enjoying the novel thrill of experiencing her work through her own dilemma, not having any idea what she would choose. The spark of free will invigorated him, and made him even more sure that he was doing the right thing. Deep inside him, the darkness hummed in agreement.

“Would I have my powers? Or would I be mortal?”

“You could have your powers, and you could also be mortal…” Jack replied. “Like I said, it’s entirely your choice. Though your choices will still have consequences, like all choices do.”

“But the fate of the universe isn’t resting on them,” Rowena said, understanding. “Just the fate of my own soul.”

Jack nodded.

Rowena took a deep breath, looked around the room, and picked up one more chocolate candy before dropping it back to the plate.

“All right, then. Let’s get back to Earth and see how much damage they’ve done to my home while I’ve been away.”

“Oh, Sam and Dean did make a bit of a mess, but they cleaned it up.” He hesitated for a second. “Well, mostly. There might be a bit of smoke damage…”

She rested a reassuring hand on Jack’s arm and smiled fondly at him. “Aye, nothing I can’t tidy away with a bit of work.” She gave him a considering look. “And what are you gonna do with yourself once you finish cleaning up your grandfather’s messes?”

He smiled at her, content. “I am just going to be.”

“That sounds incredibly well adjusted for a three year old Almighty.” She hesitated for a moment more when Jack raised a hand toward her. “And will you be popping round for tea on occasion?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be in every cup of tea you ever have, and in every tea cup. And everything else. I’ll always be with you, Auntie Rowena.”

She shook her head, her brow pinching together. “You mean, poof, that’s it? I’ll never see you again? Your family will never see you again?” She gaped at him for a moment, and then spoke to him as if he was just Jack, and not the most powerful being in creation. “My sweet boy, what even is the point of saving everyone else if you can’t save yourself in the bargain? Don’t you want a chance to just be… human? To enjoy the rewards of having set all of creation to rights? Don’t you want a chance to live the life your mother wanted for you?”

Jack was taken aback by the suggestion, and blinked at her. “This… this was what my mother wanted for me. She believed in me, and knew I could do it, and I did.”

Rowena smiled fondly at him and shook her head again. “My boy, I thought I knew what I wanted for my own son a very long time ago, and it took losing him to understand how much wrong I’d done him. I’m telling you as a mother, she’d be glad you saved the universe, but she’d be gladder to know you were loved and alive and living your best life, too. When the big things are taken care of, the little things are all that really matter in the end. And you deserve every last one of those little things, too.”

Jack considered her words, and for the first time felt truly conflicted. Amara rumbled inside of him, and Jack knew Rowena’s words had affected her, too. What had she said to him before everything spun out of control? That she looked forward to getting to know him, and there wasn’t really anything they couldn’t know about each other now that they were joined through their power. Maybe it was the unfamiliar power making him feel lost under the weight of it all, the way he’d felt after he’d burned off his own soul and swallowed Michael’s grace. Would he lose himself again if he held on to all that power? Would he forget what it meant to be loved and to love others, and eventually turn into the bitter, warped creature that Michael had been, or that Chuck himself had become? Maybe eternal existence wasn’t the soundest course of action to take. Amara didn’t reply, but he could feel her encouraging that line of thinking. After all, she'd existed just as long as Chuck had, but for her, most of that existence was spent imprisoned. She had a lot of compelling thoughts on the nature of freedom.

Rowena studied him as he mulled this over, almost as if she understood exactly what he was facing.

“I might never have held as much power as you have running through your bones now, but I can tell you that power for its own sake is like a poison. I fought for it for centuries, but it’s never enough. The more you have, the harder it is to hold on to your humanity and the more the world starts to look like something ripe for the taking. It’s how I ended up here in the first place. And I suspect it’s how Chuck ended up where he was, as well. I can’t speak for Amara, but she might well agree with me.”

Rowena’s words clearly resonated with Amara, and Jack understood the sorrow and loss she felt. He wasn’t making decisions just for himself. Whatever he ended up doing needed to be in partnership with her.

He frowned at Rowena, but nodded slowly. “I… I don’t know what I should do, but I have more work to do before I have to make any decisions for myself.”

Rowena swallowed hard and nodded in understanding, rejecting his offered hand and pulling him into a gentle hug. “You think long and hard about it, then. There’s plenty of people who would be better for having you in their lives, myself included.” Jack finally raised his arms and returned her hug. “Thank you, Jack. I’m so glad we won.”

“Tell Sam and Dean that Hell is at peace now. They deserve to know. Just… maybe give them a day or two before you call them. They’re a bit overwhelmed at the moment.”

Before she could reply, he sent her home, just as the stone walls of the throne room collapsed to be replaced by an endless expanse of new potential.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean watched Sam and Eileen’s reunion through the windshield before closing his eyes. “Cas, I don’t know if you can hear prayers anymore, wherever you are.” He opened one eye and looked around, but Cas hadn’t appeared. He hadn’t really been expecting him to. He hadn’t just flapped in on command in years. Dean noticed Sam trying to get his attention, waving a hand and then pointing toward Eileen’s front door as she pulled down the note she’d been taping up. Dean just nodded his understanding, and settled in for a wait while Eileen grabbed a few things from inside. He had his own unfinished business to handle.

“I’m gonna assume that even if you can hear this, you’re not in any position to get your ass down here for a face to face.” After another few seconds, Dean took a deep breath and blew it out in a huff. This wasn’t nearly as easy as it would be if he knew for sure Cas was actually hearing any of it. Or if he could know how Cas would react to any of it, not that Cas was particularly emotive to begin with. Maybe Dean just wasn’t as good at reading Cas as he’d always thought he’d been, if the guy had really been in love with him all these years and he just hadn’t noticed. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Dean had _definitely_ noticed. He just hadn’t thought it meant the same thing to Cas that it did to him. Angels weren’t supposed to feel human shit. That’s what Anna had told him a decade ago, and Naomi had reminded him a few years later. And he hadn’t really been given a reason to doubt that based on any other angel he’d ever met. Cas himself had frequently reminded him that it was humans who made these sorts of things complicated.

Cas had been human for just about long enough for Dean to begin to wonder, and then before he had a chance to do anything about it, Cas wasn’t human anymore, and everything spun out of control again. Every time he nearly worked up the courage to test those waters again, something would get in the way and way too many words had just gotten lost in the shuffle. And Cas didn’t get words wrong, either, did he?

Dean had been sitting there for a good five minutes, feeling like he’d left Cas hanging on the other end of a phone call while he worked his way through his tangle of thoughts and emotions. He wondered if just thinking and feeling all this turmoil in Cas’s direction was enough to count as a prayer in itself. He’d certainly done enough of that over the years, and Cas had either been too polite to bring it up or too indifferent to care anyway. Or at least that’s what Dean had always assumed, until now.

Cas’s confession hadn’t really left him with any doubts on what Cas actually felt for him. The more he’d had a chance to think about everything Cas had said, the squirmier his stomach had become. Dean wasn’t sure anyone had ever delivered that crushing a blow in compliment form, followed up by the TKO of concrete proof that Cas had meant every last word-- meant it intensely enough for the very act of confessing it to function as an incantation invoking the Empty and sealing his fate. In any other circumstance, just hearing those words would’ve sent his heart soaring, or his thoughts into doubting it all anyway. Instead, he just felt cursed.

 _The one thing I know I can’t have_. Well that was bullshit, right there, and Dean was gonna make sure Cas knew it, with all the necessary words instead of ambiguous knots of emotions. Technically he was right, if having it would’ve triggered that dumb deal, but that was the only thing standing in their way, other than Dean’s complete failure to ever actually talk to Cas about any of this when he’d had the chance. Even if it was too late now for any of it to change anything, Cas still deserved to know.

“You really thought you couldn’t have me? Cas you’ve had me for years, man. I didn’t think you wanted me back. How the fuck could I ever be enough for an angel? I know how you see me, and that’s great, but you’ve seen _everything_. Probably like the beginning of time and the fucking dinosaurs and the rings of Saturn. I always thought you had more important shit to be doing than hanging around with me. And here I was dragging you to bars and diners and graveyards like I was teaching you important things about existence. And you put up with so much of my shit, too. Indulged my stupid human whims like it really meant something to you.”

Dean stopped and laughed under his breath, and then kept right on praying, working all of this out for himself as he laid it out for Cas.

“Mr. I don’t get words wrong, hanging out with a guy who had no idea how to get the words out in the first place. What a pair we were, huh?”

He rested his head back and stared up at the roof of the car. Maybe the Empty was _up_ in the same way humans think Heaven is _up_ , and not some other plane of existence entirely. It made him feel better to pick a direction to talk to, at any rate, and he laughed at himself again, slightly hysterical this time as a tear slid down his cheek.

“I didn’t know, man. How was I supposed to know? No matter what I did, you always left. And what right did I have asking you to stay? It’s not like you didn’t have a damn good reason to go most of the time.”

Dean tried not to think about the time he’d just had his humanity restored after having been a demon for half a summer, and the bitterness that filled him when Cas couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Or any of the times he’d flat-out refused Dean’s offer of help and insisted he needed to handle shit on his own. Or every time he’d gone completely radio silent, and the fear and panic he’d felt growing the longer Cas had stayed away. Or even when Cas had been human and seemingly would’ve rather shacked up with some random woman than come home to him. As if Dean hadn’t fucked up that whole situation well enough on his own anyway. He shoved all that regret down and fought himself for the words he needed now, for the words he’d been incapable of saying even in his last prayer in Purgatory, and that Cas had stopped him from saying when they’d found each other again.

“You have to know I always wanted you to stay. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and for some reason you’ve always seen the best in me even when I was at my worst. I mean, you pulled me out of hell and saw exactly what I was like there, and still thought I deserved to be saved. I shoulda known the minute I stabbed you and you didn’t just smite me on the spot.”

The tears were still flowing, but Dean was smiling now.

“But you’ve been more than just a friend to me for a long time now. You gotta know I love you too, right? You have to know it wasn’t just you.”

He wiped the tears away, feeling about a thousand pounds lighter just having said the words.

“It wasn’t just you, Cas. Please tell me you’re coming back to me. I almost died the last time you were gone, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen this time, but I know one thing. Maybe it’s the one thing I can’t have, but damn if it’s not the only thing I’d ask for. We saved the whole goddamn universe today, and the only thing I want in return is the chance to tell you I love you too. Maybe this was it. Maybe this is all we get, but for right now it’s gonna have to be enough.”

Dean slowly came back to himself, hands balled into fists in his lap, and sent one final plea out to the universe, to Jack if he was still paying attention to these sorts of things and not busy inhabiting raindrops or whatever. As he unclenched his fists and considered getting out of the car, a light drizzle began to fall. For some reason, it made Dean smile.

***

Bursting through the low-level hum of the universe buzzing all around him, Jack was jolted by Dean’s sudden prayer. He hadn’t been trying to invade Dean’s privacy, but he was learning this was one of the drawbacks to omniscience. Jack recognized the raw anguish in Dean’s prayer, even if it wasn’t directed to him personally. He was still effectively the underlying cause of Dean’s pain, and much as they’d tried to understand and care for one another, Jack was also beginning to understand the loss Dean had suffered because of him, beginning even before he was born.

Amara pulled him up short as they moved from Hell and through the earthly plane on their way toward Heaven. She'd felt it too, the unrelenting grief and despair flooding through Dean’s soul. She shared a strange connection to Dean, as well, and it had taken her years to begin to understand the depth of human love she’d learned from that bond. For the first time since he’d absorbed her power into his being, Amara articulated herself with words.

“Their lives are so short and so filled with suffering. Dean’s especially, which is all the more tragic because of every human I’ve encountered, none have had even a fraction of his capacity for love. And yet his entire life has been spent sacrificing himself and his wants for everyone else’s sake. It’s not fair, what my brother did to him. To all of us, but especially to him.”

Jack couldn’t argue with any of that, and instead stood silently by until Dean finished his prayer. He couldn’t help Dean in that instant, but he would do the next best thing. Gentle raindrops splashed down on the Impala’s windshield, tears he couldn’t shed himself, in a promise to do whatever he could to make it right again. There were a few more things he had to do first, though, and as silently as he’d arrived he departed again for Heaven.

There were far too many people in Heaven that Jack could’ve talked to, but his first stop was to visit Mary Winchester. He walked through the desolate, sterile hallways while Amara let out a sound of despair at the austerity of the place. For all the messy potential of humanity contained within each isolated cubicle, the overarching structure of Heaven felt like the ultimate insult to the glory and diversity of its inhabitants. Luckily for them, the human residents remained blissfully unaware of their true circumstance, contentedly reliving their best memories on an eternal loop while the power of their souls kept the machinery of Chuck’s creation running.

Amara shuddered at what was effectively Chuck’s prison for humanity, reminded again of the cage he’d locked her in before going on to build ever more complex cages for the things he never bothered to truly understand. Jack soothed her with the reminder that they were here to make all of it right, but first they had to start with Mary.

He stood outside her door, marked with the date of her most recent death--the date his own actions had killed her. It felt strange not to knock, like it was just one more intrusion on her life that he would inevitably be responsible for, but she wasn’t alive, and this wasn’t really a door. At least, it wasn’t a door she was in any way equipped to answer for herself. With an encouraging nudge from Amara, Jack let himself into Mary’s heaven.

He hadn’t known what he’d find inside, and was taken aback to see a version of himself there in Mary’s memory. Of all the memories that she might’ve considered happy enough to register in Heaven’s eternal recall machine, he’d never expected to find Mary comforting him in that horrific alternate universe they’d been trapped in for months together. Most of the time they’d been there had been torture of one variety or another--from literal torture at Michael’s hands to the endless struggle just to survive. But she’d never once wavered in her care for him during that time. She’d treated him like her own son, defended him to anyone who would’ve questioned him or taken advantage of him.

In this memory, she was telling Jack stories about her life, about her family, about Sam and Dean and how she came to terms with the men they’d grown into in her absence. He remembered being there with her, huddled around a fire as they stood watch over the camp on a cold night. Her company had warmed him more than the fire. But he didn’t remember everything he could only now see from his new vantage point as a mere outside observer.

Jack watched Mary smiling at the memory version of himself, unaware back then that she’d felt so much fondness for him, that she’d begun to consider him her own. He knew in that moment he’d picked the right place to start, but he almost didn’t want to interrupt the tender moment, for his own sake as much as Mary’s.

It was becoming harder to hold on to himself as the rhythms of the universe settled out throughout his entire being. He’d achieved what he was born to do, but was feeling the acute loss of everything he’d never been able to choose for himself. The wonder of endless possibility, of his own identity and his very humanity, were concepts he clung to as the vastness of the universe begged to swallow him up. Rowena’s advice to him ricocheted through his mind, but it wasn’t something he could stop and really consider just yet. He had to hold himself together a little bit longer first.

Jack took a breath and allowed Mary to see him as the memory of himself sitting by the fire played on. It only took a moment for her confusion to pass, and to recognize him as the illusion of heaven disintegrated around her.

“Jack, what… what are you doing here?” She glanced around at the campfire burning on, and at the now empty woods. “We’re in Heaven, aren’t we? Is that what this is?”

Jack smiled at her. “Yes, this is Heaven.” His smile faded into a frown as he ached to reach out to her but held himself back. Despite the evidence of her care for him from the memory he’d intruded upon, the cold reality of her current circumstance still rested squarely on his past actions and he was again unsure of his welcome. “You’re here because of me, because I hurt you. I’m sorry, Mary.”

A pained look crossed her face, and she closed the short distance between them and gathered him up in a hug. “Jack, I know it wasn’t really your fault. I know you weren’t yourself.”

He tentatively held his hands up like he wanted to hug her back, but was still conflicted. “You’re not mad at me? You should be.”

“I was angry with myself a few times,” Mary replied, letting him go to look him in the face. “We were all worried about you, but none of us really knew how to help, or what to do. You were trying to do the right thing, and it just… went completely wrong. I know a thing or two about that myself.”

She gave him a sad smile, and Jack knew all about her past failings. She’d told him all those stories, the choices she’d made and regretted until she’d gotten to see first hand the results of making a different choice in the cataclysm that befell that alternate universe. He recalled everything she’d told him what felt like so long ago now.

“We can’t regret our choices, as bad as the results might seem, if we know the consequences of choosing differently could always be far worse.”

Mary laughed at that and nodded. “Did I say that?”

Jack smiled. “You did. Here,” he said, waving a hand around at her memory. “You protected me, and I failed to protect you. I’m still sorry about that.”

Mary shrugged. “It’s not like you were trying to hurt me. I understand what happened, Jack.”

They stood just looking at one another for a moment, before Jack finally remembered why he was there. Faced with the reality of explaining everything that had happened to Mary, he wasn’t even sure where to begin anymore. It was Mary who finally prompted him to begin.

“What’s wrong, Jack? And what are you doing here? Are Sam and Dean okay? Are _you_ okay?”

“Oh, everything is okay, for the first time in… probably ever, yes. That’s actually why I’m here.”

Mary nodded, walking back over toward the fire and sitting down on the ground near the warmth of the flames. She waved a hand at the boulder beside her and invited Jack to sit with her. “Make yourself comfortable and tell me all about it, then.”

Jack did as he was bid and set about explaining the entire last year that she’d missed out on. He explained how Chuck had been manipulating all of their lives, inflicting every last horrific choice on them to try to force them to enact the tragic story he wanted them all to relive again and again for his own pleasure. The horror of it all hit Mary when Jack described his own death and the process of transformation he’d had to endure to regain his own soul and make himself into a perfect weapon to destroy Chuck. By the time he reached the end of his story, Mary had tears staining her cheeks but a relieved smile on her face. She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you through all that. But I take it you’re trying to fix what Chuck broke now.”

“I am,” Jack replied. “Amara and I have already healed Purgatory, Hell, and Earth. But Heaven is part of Chuck’s creation, built to serve him instead of the souls it was built to contain. I wanted you to know what’s about to happen.”

Mary frowned at him again. “What is about to happen?”

Jack grinned at her. “Would you mind coming with me for a bit? There’s one more person I need to visit with, and I’d like you to be there with me.”

Confusion and surprise played out across her face before she nodded. “Sure, Jack. Where are we going?”

Unlike when he entered Mary’s heaven, Jack didn’t worry about formality when he moved himself and Mary into his mother’s heaven. She’d be glad to see him, and he couldn’t wait to tell her that he’d finally won. He found Kelly in an unexpected corner of her memories this time, cooking lunch for herself as she sang to him and rubbed her swollen belly the day before he’d been born. 

“Hi, mom,” Jack said, and Kelly turned to him, the illusion of Heaven shattering even before she fully faced him.

She looked exactly like she did the last time he’d seen her, right here in Heaven, the day he’d been resurrected the first time. She paused for a moment, looking him over, and then noticed Mary lurking in the doorway behind him. Mary waved awkwardly, and Kelly smiled warmly at her.

“Mary Winchester, if you’re here then something terrible must’ve happened. I’m sorry to hear it.”

Mary smiled back at her stepping up beside Jack, standing with him in solidarity. “Everything comes to an end eventually, and I made my peace with the world. It’s okay, really.”

“It’s not okay,” Jack replied, “but it will be.”

Kelly returned her attention to Jack, and frowned. “This isn’t like your last visit, is it? Mary’s not about turn into black goo and try to steal you away to the Empty again...”

Jack shook his head and grinned. “Nope, I’m a hundred percent alive and well. I did it. I did what you always believed I could.”

Kelly blinked at him and shook her head ever so slightly as she tried to understand what Jack was telling her, and was coming up blank. Jack took it upon himself to enlighten her, telling a quicker version of the story he’d just shared with Mary. Amara had been quiet through most of Jack’s reunion with Mary and Kelly, but having observed everything first hand, Jack could feel her concern. No, not quite concern, but her interest and investment in Jack’s association with these women, with his mothers. He could tell she was both exhilarated and nervous on his behalf, and he tried to soothe her with patient understanding. Jack may have had to grow up mostly without his own mother, but he did understand a mother’s love and care for her child-- through Kelly, through Mary, and even through Rowena. This experience, even second-hand through Jack, was entirely new for Amara, and Jack was delighted by her reaction to seeing this unfold, and feeling what he felt. It helped to ground them both.

While Jack talked with Kelly, and she expressed her joy in his achievements through tears, hugs, and smiles, Amara felt all of it, too. The two of them, unbeknownst to everyone else, began silently coming to their own decisions, rooted in the simple power of a mother’s love. Jack finally felt compelled to bring her into the conversation.

“I couldn’t have done it without Amara, too. She’s in here with me,” he said, touching his chest. “We have a partnership, and all the power of the universe is in balance because of it.”

For the first time, Kelly looked concerned. “What… what does that mean, for both of you?”

Jack looked down at his feet as the tentative hopes they’d both begun to harbor slowly circled just out of reach. They still had just a bit more work to do before they could even think of giving voice to those thoughts. He smiled up at Kelly and shrugged. “We’re working on it.”

Kelly reluctantly let the topic go for now. “So you’ll be able to visit any time now, I guess? I’d love it if you wanted to spend more time here, with me. Sometimes it does get a little lonely when I remember your last visit.”

Jack laughed, evading the question yet again, seeing as how it was directly connected up to the previous one, even if he hadn’t fully made his choice yet. There was one thing he could absolutely do to make Heaven a little less lonely, though. It’s why he was there in the first place, after all.

“What if Heaven didn’t have walls? What if everyone was free to see whoever they wanted, and make new memories instead of living only in the past?”

Kelly looked confused by this, but Mary frowned.

“Do you mean I could go find my mother and just visit with her?” Mary asked. “Or anyone else?”

Jack shrugged. “You could, or you could not. It would always be your choice, though. You could just go out and make the exact existence you’d always wanted, always dreamed of, or you could arrange a high school reunion, or introduce yourself to your great-great-grandparents. But these walls would no longer contain you.”

It was Kelly’s turn to frown. “What if there’s people I wouldn’t want to see?”

“Then you wouldn’t see them,” Jack replied, his easy grin fading into a mask of frustrated confusion. “Heaven is a weird place. It’s not bound by the dimensions of Earth, and it can be bent to the will of God. And I…” he glanced down with a smile for Amara and edited himself. “And _we_ will it to be a place of infinite freedom and possibility, only limited by your own wants and needs.” He hesitated for a moment more, glancing between Mary and Kelly’s stunned faces before reassuring them as best he could. “Trust me, it’ll work.”

The two women exchanged a bit of silent communication before nodding at one another.

“I’ve trusted you since before you were born, Jack,” Kelly replied. “You’re going to do this now? Tear down the walls?”

With a nod, Jack replied. “As soon as you’re ready, yes.” Kelly looked ready and eager for the new adventure, but Jack had one last point of order to handle first. “There’s just one more thing. I am the reason both of you are here in the first place. You both lost your lives because of me, because you loved me and wanted to help me. So before I remake Heaven, I want to give you both a choice you were never given before. It’s only fair.”

Inside him, Amara watched events unfold, intrigued and openly delighted by the offer she knew Jack was about to make them both. He quieted her down, looked into Kelly and Mary’s confused faces and smiled.

“You were both willing to lay down your lives for me without hesitation, and without you, none of us would be here right now. The universe would simply be gone. You both had your choices stolen from you when Chuck and Lucifer chose to meddle with creation.”

Amara groaned within him, feeling grateful to Jack that he left her own meddling out where it came to Mary. She’d naively tried to mend one of Chuck’s wrongs against the universe--to help Dean understand himself, his life, and who he was by giving Mary back to him--but she hadn’t really considered Mary’s own feelings in the matter before tearing her out of Heaven and flinging her back to Earth. Jack soothed her again, reminding her of everything good that came of it, and assuring her that everyone was grateful for what she’d done. They couldn’t undo the past, but they could help the future be better. Or at least make it fully free. It was all they had to offer.

“If you could choose to go back to earth, back to the lives you left because of me, to live out the rest of your lives with your loved ones, would you want to go back?”

Kelly and Mary both stared at him for a moment before exchanging a wary glance with one another. When neither of them replied immediately, Jack pressed on.

“You can choose to stay if you want. You can even choose to live entirely in your memories, if that makes you happiest. Heaven will be built on free will from now on, including the freedom for nothing to change at all if you don’t want it to. But the two of you, of everyone who has died before their time because of Chuck’s interference with creation, deserve the choice to go back and live the lives you should’ve.” He looked at Mary, and smiled. “Or at least the life you would choose now.”

She smiled back at him and nodded. Before she could say anything, Kelly walked up to Jack and hugged him, then leaned back enough to look up into his face.

“I’m so proud of you for saving the world, for healing the damage to the whole universe, but there are other things I would want for you, too. I don’t know what you’re going to do next, and I don’t really think you know that yet either, so I won’t pry, but as for me, I think I’m content to stay. I don’t even know what I’d be going back for after all this time. Whatever life I had is gone now, and here I can have everything I ever wanted.” She grinned at Jack and laughed. “Well, everything but my son. At least for now. I want you to go live a full, rich life with the people who raised you, and who love you. And then come back and tell me all about it. Okay?”

Jack nodded. Even with all the power of creation at his command, he was unable to stop the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“I’ve never met Amara face to face, but you make sure she knows she deserves the same. Maybe someday she’ll come visit me herself and we can get to know one another. We’re technically family, after all.”

Amara stirred inside him, clearly also as moved by Kelly’s words as Jack was. He smiled at his mother as he wiped his face.

“She’d like that. We both would.”

Kelly reached up and held Jack’s face in her hands, and looked right into his eyes. “I will never regret anything that happened, okay? You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and it just coincidentally helped save the universe. That’s secondary, though. I love you, and I’m proud of you, and you’re never allowed to forget that, okay?”

Jack nodded as best he could while Kelly held him. “I love you, too. And I’ll try to keep making you proud.”

She hugged him tight and then let him go. They both now looked to Mary, who looked just as affected by the scene Kelly and Jack had made as they were. She’d done her best to give them some privacy, edging around to the other side of the kitchen table.

“My turn, eh?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “When I went back last time, it wasn’t of my own choosing. Thirty three years is a long time to just be missing from your own life, and nothing was the same as I remembered it. The whole world had left me behind, and for a long time it felt like no matter how fast I ran, I’d never be able to catch up with it. I always felt _wrong_ , out of place with no way to make it right. Three decades of pain and grief left behind by what I’d always believed were my own selfish choices, and nothing I ever did could fix any of it.”

She paused for a moment, resting her hands on the back of a chair for support. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then looked right at Jack.

“But now I know there’s nothing for me to fix. The world is right now, because of you, Jack.”

“And because of you, too,” Jack reminded her. “All of us played a part in that. Including Sam and Dean.”

Mary’s face softened into a fond smile. “Yes, even if it took us all a long time and a lot of struggling to get there.”

Jack nodded. “So would you like one more chance to go back to a world you don’t have to fix, where your children are happy and can finally choose their own lives, and you can be there for them? Or…”

Mary shook her head and grinned. “I’d love to. Maybe this time I can actually learn how to cook.”

Jack smiled contently and nodded. He knew how much it would mean to Sam and Dean that she wanted to return to them, even after everything they’d been through. Amara sent a surge of both relief and elation flying through him, and Jack acknowledged her feelings with an unspoken reply.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked, leaving every bit of her decision in her hands. “Sam and Dean are still on the road, and I’m not sure they’re going to be back at the bunker tonight. They’re close, but they’ve been, ah, temporarily diverted to visit a friend…”

He didn’t want to spoil the surprise Mary was in for on learning about Sam’s blooming relationship with Eileen. Jack figured that was something best left for Sam and Eileen themselves to share with her. But Mary had other ideas anyway.

“Yeah, I think I need to take care of a few things before I go home again. Clean up a few loose ends.”

“Whatever you want, just say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

She nodded seriously, before turning to Kelly. “I know we didn’t really get to know each other properly before, but someday when I come back here, I intend to fix that.”

Kelly grinned at her and pulled her into a hug. “You just make sure it’s a good long time before that happens. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

When they pulled apart, Mary looked overwhelmed but ready to go.

“Okay then. Can you drop me at my storage unit? I can rent a truck there and clear the place out. I should’ve taken all of it to the bunker a long time ago, but it’s never too late to finally get it right.”

Jack studied her for a moment, finding the location in her memories and ensuring a truck big enough to contain all her belongings would be waiting for her there. If he happened to drop a phone, a room key for a nearby motel and one of Sam and Dean’s magical credit cards on the front seat of the truck, he was sure she wouldn’t be too upset about it. Jack knew he hadn’t made her life any easier over the years. His birth had ripped a hole into the alternate universe she’d been trapped in for the better part of a year. It was only fair to make this next phase of her life as painless as possible.

“Consider it done,” he finally replied.

“Are you coming home with me?” Mary asked. “I mean, obviously you don’t need a ride, but I definitely wouldn’t mind the company on the long drive, either.”

Jack was surprised by Mary’s easy offer, and within him Amara snorted. Of course Mary didn’t harbor a grudge, or blame him for what happened. Of course she forgave him, and still thought of him as her own. Amara had come to understand this as a cornerstone of motherhood, at least as exemplified by Mary and Kelly. When it came to answering her, Jack hedged.

“I still have a few things I need to take care of, but maybe I’ll join you on the road when I’m done. No promises, though.”

Mary frowned at that, sensing his uncertainty. Amara laughed again, feeling for the first time in her life that she was at least adjacent to the receiving end of one of those motherly instincts she’d heard so much about.

Inside Jack, she said, “You can’t hide the truth from someone who knows you so well. Omniscience and omnipotence can’t help you when it comes to people who love you.”

Jack frowned at that, knowing he might be losing that forever, and thinking back to every conversation he’d had with Cas, with Michael, with the Gorgon who had compared him to a snake and an egg…

He didn’t want to become what Michael was, what Chuck became. This much power stretched way too thin over billions of years, watching everyone he loved or would ever love grow old and die while he never changed, he wasn’t sure that wouldn’t change him into something he would never want to be. Something that would forget, or stop caring, or no longer remember what it meant to be loved at all. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine, which Amara soothed away with the hot spike of the rage she’d known for eons trapped in a cage that Chuck had made for her. She knew what it meant to suffer alone, lonely, and unloved for an eternity, and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all Jack.

The two of them had each other, and Jack was a better companion than Chuck had ever been to her, but they both stood to lose so much if they allowed themselves to simply retire from the playing field of creation. They’d both lived just enough to have learned to want things, to care about creation in ways Amara had never even understood were possible until Dean had finally freed her.

Jack acknowledged that reminder of Dean with a hearty agreement. He still needed to take care of one last thing, to do whatever he could to answer the heartbroken prayer that Dean was still broadcasting with his entire soul. He wasn’t even entirely sure it was possible, but he had to at least try before he could make any choices for himself. Amara agreed, but again, they’d both come just a little bit closer to knowing what they would both choose if they could.

He gave Mary a sad smile. “I promise to explain it to you when I can.”

“I guess that’s as much as I can hope for,” Mary replied, giving him the same tone he’d heard Jody once refer to as her mom voice, as if she understood the turmoil of his current situation and the exact dilemma he and Amara were facing. “Just know that if you fly off to do God things and don’t remember to come home for family dinner at least once a week, it’ll probably annoy Dean to no end, and you know how he gets when people he cares about miss dinner.”

Jack laughed at that, and Mary pulled him into a hug. With one last wave to his mother, Jack sent Mary back to Earth, and readied himself for his final mission.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean had been about to get out of the car, but the rain had shown up out of the blue and made him hesitate. Did Jack hear his prayer and answer with raindrops? He thought he might be losing his mind for even thinking it might be true, despite it having been one of the last things Jack had said to them before he'd flapped off for points unknown. If this was the kid’s idea of a prayer being answered, it was just as bullshit as Chuck’s method of answering prayers ever was. In the darkest recesses of his mind, Dean resigned himself to accepting this as Jack’s way of saying he couldn’t do anything to bring Cas back to him, but he wouldn’t let himself fully process that thought yet. He still had to deal with Sam and Eileen being all cute and coupley and alive and together, at least long enough to get back to the bunker. Then he could tip over the edge of despair in the privacy of his own room.

He’d prayed himself out, and officially run out of patience waiting for Sam and Eileen to do their little reunion thing. Rather than get out and walk through the rain to hurry them up, Dean got out his phone. No point in being miserable _and_ wet. He sent Sam a text.

_ <<It’s raining now. How much longer are you gonna be? _

He only had to wait a minute or two for the reply.

_ >>Eileen’s packing a bag and taking care of a few personal things. We’re gonna be a few more minutes. If you want to head back, she can drive us to the bunker when we’re finished here. _

Dean wasn’t sure if it would be better or worse to get back home by himself. After debating the pros and cons with himself for a few minutes, he sent a quick reply.

_ <<Take your time then. I’ll head out. See you tomorrow. _

He tossed his phone in the back seat so he wouldn’t be tempted to carry on the conversation any longer. He wasn’t in the mood for Sam trying to cheer him up. Dean started the car, turned on the windshield wipers and headed for home, and the bottle of whiskey he had stashed in his closet for emergencies just like this.

***

_This is the Empty_ , Cas muttered to himself for what could’ve been the billionth time. Every time he fought his way to the surface, pushed aside the sludge the Empty was determined to bury him with. He had no idea how long he’d been there. It could’ve been minutes or eons, because it was just one long loop of torment, over and over again.

From the moment the Empty had claimed him, it had taken his pure happiness and forged it into weapon after weapon to slice and hack at him. It pawed through his best and worst memories, showing him just how much worse they could be. Fighting his way through Hell and catching his first glimpse of Dean’s soul, only to be cut down by a demon, or to watch another angel be the one to reach Dean first. He returned to Heaven with the rest of his garrison, and the apocalypse proceeded apace while he fought for Heaven and Michael claimed his true vessel. And that had only been the first blush of new levels of agony he was forced to endure.

Dean killed by Leviathans in Purgatory while trying to rescue him. Dean fully consumed by the Mark while he was forced to stand by and watch him murder the world. Dean sacrificing himself over and over in every conceivable way, giving in to every last demand Chuck would make on him.

Perhaps worst of all were the Empty’s twists on every happy memory he’d carefully curated over the last decade. Watching movies with Dean suddenly became relationship ending scenarios where they fought and Dean told him never to come back. Or worse, after he’d confessed his feelings for Dean, Dean replying that he was disgusted by him or rejecting him in any of a thousand ways. Those were almost easier to free himself from than some of the more banal scenarios. He was certain that the real Dean wouldn’t be so cruel, and he was certain Dean did love him, too, even if it might not be the same way he loved Dean. He was disgusted to have to endure them, and they hurt like a flaming sword pierced through his heart, but they also had a hollow ring to them.

There were mundane accidents on routine hunts, leading to things Cas simply couldn’t save him from--a vampire lying in wait and ambushing Dean, a wraith who managed to poison him and turn him into a killing machine before finally ending him. And then there were the ridiculously mundane tragedies, from car accidents and falling off ladders to food poisoning to stumbling and impaling himself on a bit of rusty metal. These were all things that could, in theory, happen to anyone. But they weren’t happening to anyone, they were all happening to Dean while he could do nothing but watch helplessly, held captive by invisible ropes the Empty had snared around his mind.

When he surfaced, Cas sometimes caught snatches of the eternal subconscious prayer that Dean had been sending in his direction for years now. He’d mostly learned to ignore it, or at least bury it deep down under everything else they always seemed to be focused on instead. That’s what Dean seemed to want, and Cas had done his best to honor their unspoken arrangement. But now, trapped deep in the Empty, he wasn’t even sure it was real, if he could still hear Dean’s prayers or if it wasn’t just some trick of the Empty forcing him to relive that it found in his mind.

Cas didn’t care why he could hear the litany of Dean’s prayers so clearly amid the chaos. He latched on to Dean’s thoughts and feelings like a lifeline, whether it was live or just the eternal playback of his memory. It was real, either way, and something the Empty couldn’t take from him or twist to its own purpose.

_Cas, I don’t know if you can hear prayers anymore, wherever you are._

Dean’s voice rang through his mind, clear as a bell, and he wondered for a moment if Dean was actually praying to him, or if this was just another ploy of the empty, before being dragged under yet again.

_How the fuck could I ever be enough for an angel?_

The Empty laughed as he emerged from another round of Dean walking away from him, rejecting him, and these were the words he heard. They didn’t seem to fit what the Empty had wanted him to suffer through, and he fought to hold on to them, to follow the sound of Dean’s voice back to consciousness before succumbing to the next round of torment.

_No matter what I did, you always left. And what right did I have asking you to stay? It’s not like you didn’t have a damn good reason to go most of the time._

He fought down a wave of horror only to claw himself back to consciousness. He’d left Dean yet again, like he’d always known he would. He’d saved Dean by his own sacrifice, and that would have to be enough. It was everything, right?

The Empty laughed again, this time with a tinge of pity just for an instant before he shoved Cas into the next horror.

_It wasn’t just you, Cas. Please tell me you’re coming back to me. I almost died the last time you were gone._

With a jolt of agony far more profound than anything the Empty had done to him thus far, Cas burst through a vision of Dean slowly going mad in a Ma’lak box at the bottom of the ocean. Dean almost died the last time he’d been gone. The last time he’d been in the Empty. What did that mean? What had Dean not told him? It was his first moment of true panic since he’d been there, and he fought to free himself from the Empty’s clutches, just to keep listening to Dean’s words, hoping to understand. The Empty showed him a glimpse of Dean, lying beside him entombed in black goo, unable to fight his way to consciousness and as much a victim of the Empty’s torments as Cas was. No matter how hard he fought to get to Dean, there was nothing he could do.

_Maybe this is all we get, but for right now it’s gonna have to be enough._

No! He was certain he’d screamed the word out loud, but beneath the din of the Empty it made no difference. It would never be enough. And the Empty drowned him again.

***

When Jack touched down in the Empty, it felt like it never had before. Maybe it was because of what he had become, or maybe it was only amplified now that his power was joined with Amara’s. The Empty had always been silent on the surface of the endless nothingness that concealed its residents like a smothering blanket. He could see through that surface layer now, though, to the cacophony of angels and demons dreaming their eternal dreams. It was disorienting enough that it took a moment to register that the Shadow hadn’t immediately popped out to confront him for intruding again.

Amara helped Jack focus through the chaos, following one thread of darkness back to its source. Maybe it was a good thing the Empty had become so loud, Jack thought, as he observed the Entity’s current obsession without drawing any attention to himself. Then again, what he saw didn’t make him feel any better about the fact.

The Entity was crouched over Cas, feeding on an endless loop of despair it inflicted on him, using Cas’s worst fears against him and relishing in the agony it generated. Time lost all meaning in that dark and cold place, and Jack stood horrified at the sheer quantity and relentless intensity of the Empty’s manipulations.

In the space of a single human breath, the Empty showed Cas everything he ever wanted, only to rip it all to shreds the moment he tried to reach for it, over and over and over again. A thousand different scenarios played out where Cas would come just to the brink of happiness, where Dean would be right there with him, only for it to fail in those final moments. Dean would die and Cas would fail to save him. A particular favorite of the Entity’s seemed to be that Cas’s sacrifice had been in vain, that he’d destroyed any hope for Dean’s happiness anyway.

In many of these little vignettes, Chuck won and crushed the universe entirely. In others, Chuck was defeated but Dean died anyway. In others, Dean ended up back in Hell, or even in the Empty, tormented for an eternity beside Cas and never even knowing that the torment wasn’t just more of the same pain that Chuck had inflicted on him since birth, never really getting a win and never having an ounce of free will to fight back with. The worst of all, though, were the ones where Dean flat-out rejected Cas after his confession and just walked away without looking back.

Having heard Dean’s prayer, having felt Dean’s near constant low-level longing for Cas even when his official prayer had ended, Jack knew it was a lie. He knew it must’ve been something that Cas truly feared if the Empty was able to use it to such devastating effect, though. Jack knew that Dean was now alone, driving back to the bunker while Sam and Eileen remained behind. Dean’s longing agony hadn’t abated in the slightest, and it was clear that the gentle rain Jack had left for Dean hadn’t helped at all. Maybe it had only made things worse. He needed to fix this, and quickly. The Entity wouldn’t allow him to linger long anyway, once it sensed them in its realm.

Amara sent a cool wave of patience through him, helping Jack contain his fury until they could find Cas amid the endless expanse of black goo. As if tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention, Amara pointed out the one being who might actually be able to help them in that realm--Billie. She lay on the ground, mortally wounded but still not quite dead. Ironic that the one living being he could sense was Death herself. As soon as he’d latched on to her presence, Jack appeared at her side. He crouched down beside her and looked into her eyes. The life was slipping from them, but she managed to focus on him.

“You did it,” she said, clutching her wounded shoulder and trying to sit up. “You beat him, but he’s not dead.”

Jack reached out a hand to stop her from further injuring herself, and nodded. “I did, and no, we left Chuck alive. He’s human now, though, which he didn’t seem very happy about.”

Billie laughed. “He wouldn’t be. Now he’ll just have to deal with things the way everyone else does. It’ll be a good learning experience for him.”

“The universe still needs an agent of balance,” Jack said, knowing he needed to work quickly. He could only ignore Cas’s suffering for so long, but Cas wasn’t the only being he needed to save. “Nobody asked you if you wanted the job before, but I’m asking now. Do you want to return to your position as Death? Or would you prefer to be just another reaper doing their job? Or would you prefer to remain here and rest? The Empty will be returning to sleep soon, and the rest of the universe has already been restored to its proper balance. There will be no more cosmically imbalancing events.”

Billie gave him the look that series of statements deserved. “You mean like bringing Death back from the dead? That sort of cosmically imbalancing event?”

Jack shook his head. “You’re not dead yet. We’re making a new baseline for balance, and once it’s set in motion, Amara and I…”

He paused for a moment to confer with Amara. They’d both been thinking it all along, but neither of them had put it into so many words yet. Jack asked her to stop him if she disagreed with anything he said, and she gave him her full support. Jack took a deep breath and confessed their plan to Billie. It seemed the responsible thing to do. He wouldn’t trust anyone but her to care for the universe as it should be.

“We’re going to finish what we started, and then Amara and I are going to resign.”

Billie side-eyed him. “You’re, what, going to run off and create another universe to meddle with? Leave this one alone?”

Jack sighed. “No, we’re going to release all the power of creation and destruction, light and dark, order and chaos, and take ourselves out of the equation. That was always Chuck’s problem. He’d sewn himself into every open space in the universe. He couldn’t separate himself from his creation and just stand back and let it run itself. It only made him more and more intent on tinkering with it. We… we don’t want to do that.”

Billie blinked at him, understanding with relief what they intended to do, and struggling to sit up again. This time, Jack helped, holding her hand and pulling her up.

“In that case, sign me up. The universe doesn’t need a god running it. It just needs to be left alone. It knows what it needs better than any god.”

"The only thing I'd ask of you is to help me finish cleaning up Chuck's messes," Jack said earnestly. "All the souls he wronged, souls sent to Hell or left to walk the Earth might need a hand getting where they belong."

"That's number one on today's agenda, I suppose," Billie replied.

Jack let just loose just enough power to heal her wound, and Billie smiled at him as she rolled her shoulder and got to her feet. He looked at her carefully and then took a step back.

“You never wanted to replace God,” he said, matter of factly.

Billie laughed. “Of course I didn’t. Nobody in their right mind would want that job.” She gave Jack the same sort of critical once over that he’d given her. “And I believe you and Amara have proved my point.”

It was Jack’s turn to laugh. “It’s a terrible job, yes.”

“Being Death should be a lot less stressful now, too, without the world threatening to go into collapse every other week because Chuck couldn’t make the Winchesters do his bidding.”

“We can hope so,” Jack replied. “One more thing, before you get back to your work. You wouldn’t happen to know where the Entity is holding Cas, do you? We need to have a word with it, and then we’ll fulfill your promise and let it go back to sleep.”

“Good luck with that,” Billie said. She pointed off in what seemed like a random direction, but as soon as Jack turned his head, he saw Cas lying on the ground a short distance away. “What Castiel is suffering through, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, and he’s actually killed me before. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Jack slowly turned back to her, afraid to take his eyes off Cas for fear he would disappear again, but needing to assure Billie that everything would be fixed soon.

“He won’t have to endure it much longer. And in case I don’t get to see you again, thank you for everything.”

Billie smiled at him. “I’d have to check my books to be sure, but I think we’re due at least one more meeting. Hopefully it won’t be for a good long time.”

With that, she gave him a little wave and disappeared. Jack assumed she went to retrieve her scythe and get back to work. It’s what he'd expected, and he hoped she appreciated the tidy state of the universe that he’d left for her.

As he walked closer across the inky darkness, Jack could see that Cas was still entirely alive, but pinned to the ground by a cocoon of snaking tendrils of the empty. It writhed across his body and held him down, muffling his screams as the Entity crouched over him, flicking its fingers and sending new waves of horror and suffering through Cas. Jack couldn’t stand for it any longer. Without taking his eyes off of Cas, he cleared his throat to finally get the Entity’s attention. It didn’t even turn to acknowledge his presence, merely started talking with an air of menacing glee in its voice.

“You made it loud, and then you disappeared before I could punish you for that,” the Entity said, its face morphing to resemble Jack’s as it turned toward him at last. “Don’t worry, though, this one is more than happy to take your punishment for you.”

Cas’s back arched as Jack helplessly watched him endure yet another iteration of Dean’s tragic death, this time being impaled on a rusty bit of metal in a barn on some random hunt. It was too much.

“Stop this now,” Jack said, feeling Amara’s encouragement and doing his best to sound authoritative when all he wanted was to run to Cas and offer him comfort. “He doesn’t deserve this. And I’m here to fix everything I broke and fulfill our promise to let you go back to sleep.”

“He doesn’t deserve it, you say?” The Entity was at least distracted from its mission to torture Cas, and his body slumped back to the ground, still entrapped by the Empty but at least momentarily at peace. “He started all of this. First thing to ever wake up here. And he was so smug about it, too. Had the nerve to actually argue with me. ME! In my own Empty!”

Jack shook his head, daring to move a little closer, and only slightly unnerved by talking to what felt like a twisted version of himself. Maybe only slightly too similar to the version of himself who’d lost his soul.

“It wasn’t Cas who woke you up. It was me. And I didn’t even know I could do that at the time. I didn’t even know the Empty existed at all. But it was my power that woke him up. And it was Dean’s grief that carried that power to Cas.”

The Entity stood up, completely releasing its grasp on Cas now that it had a more interesting bug to play with. Jack desperately wanted to glance down and check on Cas, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the Entity. Within him, Amara silently stood guard over Cas, making sure that he was waking up and blinking his way back to full consciousness. For some reason, omniscience didn’t quite function the same way in this realm as it had everywhere else. Possibly because this was a place he wasn’t supposed to be at all. Jack was fine with that, and waited for the Empty to work through this new conundrum.

“You woke me up? And you never thought to share this information with the class during those long months you spent relaxing in my parlor? That honestly would’ve been a relevant thing to know. I might not have been so welcoming if you had told the truth.”

Jack felt another wash of prayer from Dean. He was still driving, listening to music and singing along, but the feeling infused in the words transformed them into a litany of grief nearly as powerful as the surge that had triggered his power to wake Cas that first time. This time, he could see Cas struggling to his feet, clearly also having felt Dean’s prayer and yet appearing entirely unperturbed by it, as if this was something he’d grown accustomed to over the years. Not for the first time, Jack wondered how both he and Dean could’ve endured this heartbreaking longing for so many years and done nothing about it. Just a few hours of it was making Jack feel practically nonfunctional. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on the Entity wearing his face.

“Yes. But I’m not the one who made it loud. I didn’t come here of my own free will, and I didn’t leave again of my own will. But I am here now to give you what you want.”

“Well, what I want right now is to get back to playing with my new toy here,” the Entity said, waving a gooey hand toward Cas, who was now glaring at it as if more offended that it was trying to impersonate Jack than at the idea of his own torture resuming.

Jack shook his head. “What you want is to sleep. You want your peace and quiet. You want to not have to _be._ ”

The entity tilted its head, intrigued by this suggestion. “Yes, yes I want that. And since you’ve gobbled up all of Chuck’s power, I trust that he won’t be meddling in my affairs anymore either?”

Jack shook his head again. “No, Chuck is human now. When he dies, he’ll go to Heaven like every other human.”

The Entity frowned at that, like it was being deprived of a very interesting plaything the way Cas had prevented it from taking Jack once before.

“You should know,” Jack added, “that every human soul is entitled to Heaven now. We’ve rebuilt Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and Earth, and you have no claim to any of the residents there. There will be no more angels or demons. Angels were nothing more than agents of Chuck’s will, fragments of his own power and ego, but the remaining angels will have their own will now, and no more humans will be tortured into demonhood. And when I release you back into your slumber, this will no longer be a place of torment, but one of healing and rest.”

“Yes, well, it was never a place of torment before _some people_ started mucking around with it and having needs and wants and desires and motivations.”

Jack didn’t pay any mind to the Entity’s grumbling. It really was a very simple creature. It really only wanted one thing--to be left alone with its own misery.

“So let me take Cas, and you can have everything you ever wanted. Release him from his bargain, and I will fulfill mine.”

“Jack, no,” Cas finally said, believing that Jack was attempting to trade himself away again.

Jack spared him a grin, but shook his head. “Don’t worry, Cas. We won, and nobody is trading themselves for anyone else again.”

Cas squinted at him, not fully understanding what Jack was trying to say, but Jack figured they could catch up on all the details once they got back to where they belonged.

“Do you want to leave?” Jack asked, at Amara’s prodding. “I mean, it still does need to be your choice. But nobody else will have to suffer or die or pay a price for it.”

The Entity stood by, mockingly mouthing Jack’s words as he spoke, but effectively doing nothing to threaten either of them. Jack was sure that it had already capitulated to his demands. Now it was only a matter of convincing Cas to leave. In the ensuing silence, the Entity finally spoke up, looking ridiculously pleased with itself.

“You say there will be no more angels, but there’s still this one right here. And you might be taking him home with you today, but someday, eventually, he will come back to me. And there will be nothing you can do about it when that happens.”

“I don’t think so,” Jack replied with a grin. “But again, that will be Cas’s choice.”

Cas looked like he was about to object, but Jack used his own version of a prayer to let Cas know that he had a choice to make. It was a choice he’d been grappling with for years now, but that he was entirely free to make for himself for the first time. In that instant, Cas knew everything that had happened, what had become of Chuck, and that Jack had achieved his full potential. He knew that Heaven had been reclaimed for humanity, that there would never be a threat to its security or that of the human souls who resided there again. He understood that angels no longer had a function to serve, that Chuck’s rigid power structure was obsolete and that every remaining angel would be allowed to choose their own fate, too. He knew that Mary had chosen to return to Earth. He knew that Jack had fulfilled the promise to his mother he’d made even before he was born, to bring love and healing to the entire world.

He knew that he could finally lay down his shield.

There was only one thing that Jack held back from him, and that was the single articulated prayer he’d heard from Dean. That wasn’t his business to reveal. Cas would still have to struggle with that one on his own. That was the burden of free will, and love, and the chance he would have to take if he was willing to risk it. Cas very well may have heard it anyway, but amid the torture he’d been enduring at the time, there was a chance he might not even believe it had been real now, rather than just another torment the Entity had tried to drown him with.

Cas stood and stared at Jack, overwhelmed with emotion. Pride and happiness and relief gave way to shock in the moment he realized he could truly choose his own path forward in Jack’s liberated world. There was no burden of duty to consider, only choice.

“Years ago, when I’d lost my grace, I was asked if I wanted to live. I couldn’t imagine giving up on life, even with no power and no grace. I’d resigned myself to that fate once before, but it was only when I was forced by circumstance to become an angel again that I truly regretted the loss of my humanity. It was easier to be an angel, not to have to feel the full weight of humanity. But if I could’ve chosen, I would’ve remained human, to stay by Dean’s side as his equal instead of just a weapon to be wielded against our enemies.” He paused for a moment, looking down at his feet. “If Dean would even have me that way.”

Jack waited a bit before quietly asking, “And would you still want that? If you could choose any fate for yourself right now?”

Cas searched himself, and Jack felt him latch on to Dean’s nearly constant prayer to him. He was singing along to Ten Years Gone, and Cas smiled at that as he looked back up at Jack.

“He’s listening to my tape, and he’s hurting,” Cas said, his smile quickly fading into a confused frown. “He should be happy that he’s finally free, that Chuck is never going to mess with his life again.”

Jack nodded slowly. Cas was so close to understanding, and he wasn’t going to help him get there.

“So do you want to go back?”

Cas shook himself, but nodded.

Jack searched through Cas’s thoughts, and knew the exact words to say, pulled right from the depths of Cas’s own memories, brought right to the surface by their conversation.

“But as what, an angel or a man?”

Cas’s eyes went wide, thrown back to the first time he’d been asked that question. He hadn’t had an answer then, but he did now. Heaven was rebuilt. He could live there as an angel and likely never die and return to the Empty. He could have an eternity with Dean without consequence or suffering. But there was no risk in that choice. Nothing to be gained from it that he didn’t already have.

Dean might never reciprocate his love the same way Cas felt for him, but everything they could have on Earth would at least be real. It would be theirs, and their choices and consequences to deal with. He couldn’t explain the difference to someone without a soul, but he knew that Jack would understand perfectly. The happiness wasn’t just in the saying it, but in the having it, too. And he wanted it, no matter what it would mean in the end. It was a chance, and a choice, and endless possibility without the burden of duty to Heaven or Chuck’s Grand Plan. Cas had been shredding Chuck’s plans for years now, thanks to Dean. Chuck would absolutely hate that one of his angels would choose to renounce his power in its entirety and truly embrace humanity. He could, for the first time in his long existence, simply be himself.

It could be real.

Cas turned to the Entity and let his angel blade drop into his hand. The Entity merely raised an eyebrow at him, as if fascinated by this turn of events. Before he proceeded, Cas turned to Jack.

“I believe once I do this, it’s possible I may be instantly expelled from this realm.”

Jack nodded. “If you are, I'll come find you. If not, I’ll carry you back to Earth myself.”

Cas nodded. “That would be appreciated.” He returned his attention to the Entity and held his blade up to his own throat. “I’m giving you what you were technically owed by my debt in the first place. It’s not really who I am anymore, and not something I need to hold on to for my own happiness. I’m leaving it here in payment of my debt, and I won’t be coming back for it.”

The Entity seemed delighted by this. Cas shook his head. His grace was nothing more than an offshoot of Chuck’s power. It was limited in the same way that Chuck was, and had been used against him more often than not. Just as Dean had thrown off his father’s burdens, now Cas could truly do the same and set himself free to live his own life.

He slowly drew the tip of his blade across the side of his throat, watching the faded wisps of his grace seep out and dissipate. It was like bidding farewell to an old friend, or retiring a worn out coat that no longer fit him, if it ever had at all. When the last stray curls of grace disappeared, Jack stepped forward and healed the bleeding wound. Cas seemed more surprised that he was still standing there, not having been automatically ejected from the Empty for being human than by the fact that he _was_ human again.

Jack smiled at him contentedly and felt the relief in Cas. Cas looked at his own fingers with a sense of wonder, rubbing them together and marveling at them, like shaking off the prickling sensation of feeling returning after his hand had been numb for far too long. Jack knew from personal experience that that was just the tip of the iceberg. He understood completely what having full possession of his own human soul had done for him, and he wanted desperately to get Cas out of this place of desolation before the full force of his choice settled over him. Amara sympathized, and they both felt a pang of anticipation for their own liberation. For the first time, they both were united in their resolve to carry out the plan they’d set for themselves, without any regret or remorse for what they were leaving behind.

With Cas now standing there, fully human in what was nothing more than a graveyard for Chuck’s failed vanity, Jack turned back to the Entity.

“I think you’ve fulfilled your purpose now. You can return to your rest.”

The entity nodded at him, smiling as it melted back into nothingness. A hush fell over the entire realm, and it breathed a collective sigh of relief as Jack collected Cas and left that place behind forever.


	5. Chapter 5

They touched down at the top of the road right outside the bunker’s door. Cas wobbled on his feet, and Jack reached out to help him balance himself.

“Whoa, now I understand why Dean used to hate that so much,” Cas muttered to himself. “I sincerely hope I won’t become constipated as a result. That would be a decidedly unpleasant way to begin my human life.”

Jack squinted at him in confusion, but released him now that he’d regained his equilibrium. 

“I can check to make sure…” Jack offered, tentatively holding up a hand toward Cas’s temple.

Cas laughed and brushed his hand away, and instead pulled Jack into a hug. “You did it. You defeated Chuck, rewrote the ending, and set the universe free. I’m so proud of you.”

Jack hugged him back and then released him, stepping a few feet away.

“There’s only one last thing I need to do.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, and Amara appeared beside him. She patted herself down, checking to make sure she was all there, and then grinned at Jack.

“We did it,” she said.

Jack nodded back with a broad smile of his own. “We did. Are you ready to finish it?”

Amara reached out and took Jack’s hand, while Cas looked on slightly confused. They could explain everything as soon as they were done, but the power of creation needed to be restored to creation itself. It wasn’t right to keep it caged, even with the best of intentions.

Jack took a deep breath and clung to Amara’s hand as they slowly let their power trickle out of them. As it flowed faster, Jack felt it wash the last of Chuck’s influence from the world. With a rush of power, he felt the book that had once held Chuck’s fate, the book that had guided his actions for the last year. In a massive surge of power, the book crumbled to dust. With no God in creation, there was no Divine Fate anymore, and the book simply ceased to be. With one of the last ebbing waves of power, Jack felt Chuck’s dismay as his only earthly possession, his only tie back to what he once had been, dissolved in his hands.

When the tide of power stopped flowing, Jack and Amara looked at one another and blinked. Before they’d started, they’d had no idea what that process would leave them as, and it was only now that they were beginning to figure that out. Amara touched her stomach and frowned.

“I’m hungry,” she said, wonderingly, and then grinned at Jack, and then Cas. “It actually feels like hunger, instead of curiosity or boredom or unmet need.”

“We had some Crunch Cookie Crunch inside. You’re welcome to have some. It’s a very satisfying late night snack food,” Jack assured her.

Cas looked back and forth between the two of them, incapable of fully understanding what they’d done now that he was human. From his perspective, he’d felt the surge of power blasting out of them like a stiff wind and a bright flash of light as the essence of creation was restored to the universe. For a quick second he’d worried they were both going to disappear in the explosion, and was tentatively relieved they were both still standing there at all. But that only led to more questions.

“Are you… are you both human now, too?”

Jack raised a hand and let a tiny flicker of his own power dance across his fingertips. He glanced over his shoulder with a frown. “No wings anymore, which makes sense. No more angels. I think I’m just me again. Only nowhere near as powerful,” he added with a little frown, but then shrugged. “Maybe natural witch levels of powerful. It’s more than I expected, honestly. Amara?”

She flicked her fingers at the lightbulb illuminating the bunker’s entryway, and nothing happened. She turned to Jack with a broad grin. “No, I think I’m human. Isn’t that amazing?”

Jack laughed. “That’s not exactly what Chuck’s reaction was.”

Amara grinned wider. “Ooh, he hated it. For his sake, I really hope he gets over that. Humanity is full of possibilities in a way that even omnipotence isn’t.”

Cas nodded thoughtfully. “Absolute power corrupts. It corrupted me once.”

Amara studied him for a moment, as if trying to communicate without words, but then shook her head and laughed. “I know about your time as host to the souls of Purgatory, but I don’t _know_ about it. Isn’t that incredible?”

Cas smiled at her, understanding her perfectly. “Sometimes it’s better to get to know things the slow way. It’s infinitely more satisfying in the end. An accomplishment, and something truly special and to be cherished, rather than a footnote to be filed away and gather dust.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “It’s exhilarating.”

“So, what are the two of you going to do now?” Cas asked.

Jack and Amara glanced at one another, and Jack shrugged. “We were hoping we could come inside. It’s been kind of a long day.”

Cas felt around in his coat pockets until he came up with his key. “I think I can arrange that,” he said, leading them to the door.

***

Dean drove down the main road into Lebanon proper, debating with himself whether to stop by the liquor store while he was in the neighborhood, or if his stash would be enough to at last get him through the next few days before he’d have to venture out and face the world again--the world without Cas in it, without purpose or direction or much to look forward to. He waved at the pizza delivery kid as he drove past the shop, and felt kinda shitty about feeling so shitty. The world was officially and permanently saved. They’d done it, and the vast majority of people he’d meet for the rest of his life would never have any idea what they’d done, nor what they’d sacrificed to get it done.

How would he ever explain what happened to Jack to the folks he knew around town? It wasn’t like he could go around telling them _oh yeah, he siphoned off all God’s power and became the new God_. Maybe he could just tell them he went off to boarding school. He decided he could worry about that later and gave up any notion of stopping anywhere or having to talk to anyone, even for a moment. It was just too much to process.

Dean had never been more grateful for that last stop sign on the way out of town. He’d dutifully stopped, looked both ways, and was about to proceed when a blast of _something_ rocked the Impala and the engine shuddered to a halt. The streetlight illuminating the intersection flickered out, and Dean was left sitting in the dark as a wave of power washed over him. For the first time since Jack had waved goodbye, Dean actually felt like Jack actually was around and paying attention, and not just off being molecules or whatever it was a god did with himself in his free time. Even despite his flash of fear and concern at the oncoming surge, when it washed over him, it felt peaceful.

As soon as his momentary wonder at the strange, foreign feeling of peace had passed, the reality of his situation set in. He banged one hand against the steering wheel and cursed.

“What the fuck is going on now?” he muttered to himself, or maybe to the car. “Can’t we even have one damn day go by before some new bullshit starts up?”

Dean looked around, hoping for some sort of sign, or an answer to his question. When he got none, he yelled out at the sky through the windshield. “I thought we were done with this bullshit, Jack. What happened to _hands off_ , buddy?”

Jack chose not to respond. Dean didn’t even get a vaguely portentous rain shower this time. He gave it a few more minutes, and eventually the streetlight flickered back to life. Either that was a sign, or else the system that controlled the power to it had time to go through its entire reboot process and come back on by itself. Dean figured it was at least worth trying to start the car back up and get back to the bunker before anything else shady and ominous happened. He heaved a sigh of relief when it started back up on the first try, and gently patted the steering wheel in both relief and apology for whacking it before.

Dean drove the rest of the way home with extreme care and an excess of caution. He hadn’t even made it two blocks before his phone dinged from where he’d tossed it in the back seat. Considering the weird power surge, he was grateful the thing hadn’t shorted out, but also grudgingly concerned that even miles away at Eileen’s place that Sam had felt the surge as well. He made a pained noise, and pulled over to the side of the road to fish out his phone and make sure the world wasn’t about to end again. It was still better than getting home and having to face an empty bunker, he told himself. When he finally snagged the phone and got himself settled behind the wheel again, there was a single message from Sam.

_ >>Just checking to see if you felt some sort of magical shock wave too, and making sure everything’s okay. _

He tapped out a quick reply.

_ <<Yeah, I’m about a mile out from the bunker and it shut down the engine. No idea what it was, but everything is working and there’s no sign of the zombie apocalypse. _

He waited for a second and then watched the little dots flicker as Sam typed out another message. While Sam finished typing, he took a moment to laugh at the fact autocorrect suggested “apocalypse” to him after he typed in “ap,” and acknowledged that they had led some pretty fucked up lives if even autocorrect had noticed it.

_ >>Yeah, we’re fine here, too. Still at Eileen’s. If you’re okay where you are, I think we’re gonna just hunker down here until morning and not risk going out on the road in case there’s another shock wave. _

Dean was both relieved and dismayed. He wouldn’t have to deal with other people watching him completely melt down, or watch Sam and Eileen be all cute and coupley and tag team concerned for his well being. At least he could pretend for one more night that there might be something cosmically afoot, and did what he’d been training for his entire life. He shoved down his feelings and psyched himself up to face a potential unknown danger, alone.

_ <<I’m gonna risk driving the rest of the way home. I’ll let you know if the alarms are all going off or whatever. You two crazy kids have fun. _

He shoved his phone in his pocket, checked to make sure all his weapons were where they were supposed to be just in case, and put the car back in gear. Nothing else untoward happened the rest of the way home. At the end of the road outside the bunker’s door, he shut off the engine and pulled out his gun. He probably wouldn’t need it, but for some reason it made him feel better having it in his hand. It gave him a purpose, and a mission to keep his mind off the fact that he was returning to an empty bunker. It would be easier to walk through the door if he treated it like any other hunt and went in on full alert.

Dean sat behind the wheel for a few moments, psyching himself up to get out of the car, just staring at the bunker’s door. He was about to get out when his phone rang. After a quick debate on whether or not to answer, he figured he probably should at least make sure it wasn’t Sam calling back with some sort of emergency update. The number on the caller ID threw him, though. He looked from the screen to the bunker door, and then back at the phone in his hand, tension ratcheting up to eleven. Whoever was calling him was inside the bunker, using the phone in the war room labeled FBI.

He ran through about twelve different panic scenarios that could’ve led to the magical shockwave combined with the evidence that _someone_ was inside the bunker, and gripped his gun a little tighter, wondering if he should risk running around to the trunk for more weapons. The phone was still ringing in his hand, though, and answering it would at least give him some sort of idea about what was waiting for him inside. At least he hoped it would. With a resigned sigh, putting aside thoughts of some unknown monster wreaking havoc in his tidy kitchen, he answered.

“Yeah?”

“Dean. I thought I heard you pull up outside, but then you didn’t come inside. I was worried there was something wrong. You’re not injured already, are you?”

Dean paused for a second, processing the voice he heard. When Jack had left them a few hours earlier, it had felt kind of final. And then his prayer went unanswered, and Dean had been trying to cope with all of that. And now Jack had apparently gone home anyway. But that meant… well he didn’t really know what that meant.

“Jack? I thought you were too busy being one with everything or whatever to hang around with your family now. You change your mind on the whole god gig?”

“Yes, I did!” Jack replied simply, as if it were the obvious answer, and one he was proud of, to boot.

Dean paused for a second. “You wanna elaborate?”

There was a rustling sound, like Jack was holding the phone against his hand to muffle it, and the indistinct noises of a conversation happening that Dean couldn’t make out. When he came back on the phone, Jack was decisive, at least.

“If you’re just sitting in your car outside, and you don’t need assistance, then you should probably come inside. I know Sam’s not with you, so I brought you some company. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Dean frowned at that. No, he really shouldn’t be alone. Cas should be there with him, but he wasn’t about to complain to their kid who just graduated from God University that it was about time for him to bring back his other dad. That could at least wait until he got inside, face to face with him. But if Jack was there, it was at least one more dangerous sliver of hope, and Dean latched on to it with both hands.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’ll be right in.”

“Okay, then,” Jack said, hanging up.

By the time Dean got out of the car, put his gun away, collected his gear from the trunk, carefully setting the pie box inside his duffel bag in case he needed his hands free, and made his way to the bunker door, it was swinging open to reveal both Jack and Amara standing on the other side. Dean stood there blinking in astonishment, looking between their smiling faces and wondering if this was a fight or flight situation, or the absolute most bizarre family reunion scene in history. Either way, they stood shoulder to shoulder completely blocking the doorway.

“Hi!” Jack said, grinning. “I’m home again. I hope that’s okay with you. I sort of invited myself inside.”

Dean shook his head, hoping his face didn’t look as dumb as he felt in that moment. “I, uh… of course it’s okay, Jack. I just thought you’d be a little too busy being the wind and the trees or whatever to stop by for visits. You already bored with being God and looking for a cartoon marathon or something?”

Jack just grinned, but Amara outright laughed. The sound took Dean by surprise, and he stared at her open-mouthed until she explained.

“Yes, you might say we got bored of playing God. We decided it was too much power for any conscious being to possess, and we freed it to be its own force in the universe.”

The pieces began falling into place, even if he still couldn’t see the whole puzzle. “The shock wave. That was you two?”

Amara nodded, but it was Jack who explained, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he shifted into serious mode.

“We visited Purgatory, Hell, and Heaven and set everything to rights there. Scrubbed out Chuck’s power grids and tore down all the walls. We gave everyone choices, and… and we brought a few people back with us.”

Dean blinked at that, wondering but not allowing himself to hope. “Like who?”

Jack shrugged. “Rowena, first off. We told her to take a few days adjusting before giving you and Sam a call. And Mary. She asked to be dropped in Wisconsin, and will be driving home tomorrow.” He frowned again, and then gave Dean pleading eyes. “I think she wanted it to be a surprise, so try to act like you didn’t know when she gets here.”

Somewhere in the middle of Jack’s explanation that wasn’t really explaining anything, Dean’s mouth dropped open and his heart started racing. It was more than he ever thought to expect. He’d let Mary go, eventually, during the mess of everything that came after. She was supposedly at peace in Heaven, and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or thrilled or horrified that Jack had brought her back again. Jack must’ve realized what was going through Dean’s head, and quickly tried to calm his fears.

“She wanted to come back,” Jack assured him. “We gave her the choice, and she was ready to come back now and fully live her life out on Earth with no regrets or guilt or fear. She wants to be here with you, knowing exactly what has happened and the state of the universe as it is.”

Dean just nodded absently, relieved as fuck that she could finally have as much of a shot at a decent, normal life as she ever wanted, but that only brought back his own sense of loss that he still couldn’t face. He decided to approach it from a different angle, easing himself into having his heart broken again.

“She was good with that? Even coming back without my dad? She just chose to leave him in Heaven?”

It was Jack’s turn to frown, shaking his head. “She wasn’t in heaven with John. When we arrived at her door, she was reliving a memory of the two of us talking around a fire one night in the alternate universe. She was telling me stories about you and Sam. John wasn’t there with her. And she didn’t ask me to bring him back with her.”

Dean let that sink in, wondering exactly what Cas had seen when he checked up on her that time in Heaven. It must’ve been just another memory, and not actually his father. For some reason, that thought actually comforted him. The only reason his parents had fallen in love was by cupids forcing them together to make Chuck’s story work. It had always been one more reason to carry a grudge against Chuck for making all of their lives into his personal paper doll playhouse. He loved his parents, and he was sure they’d loved each other, but the grand romance of it all had always been a lie, and hearing the truth of Mary’s heaven sort of confirmed it for him. He’d stood quietly for a bit too long, because Jack piped up again.

“Everyone else in Heaven is now free to do what they want, to go where they want, to build new memories and live much fuller lives. Heaven has been rebuilt entirely, and the souls there aren’t powering Chuck’s entire system of control and domination anymore. Mary just decided she had a little more living left to do, and I’d been the one to cut that short. I had to try and fix it.”

Amara reached out and laid a comforting hand on Jack’s forearm. “It wasn’t your fault, Jack. It was Chuck pushing you into it. He wanted you to prove that you were a monster who needed to be destroyed, so he could push Dean to pull the trigger. It was cruel to all of you, and we were finally able to make it right.”

Jack patted her hand, smiling gratefully at her and nodding. “Thank you for that, but I can admit I was at least in some way responsible for what happened.”

Their conversation gave Dean a few moments of reprieve to process everything they’d told him so far. And they still hadn’t got to the part about releasing all the god juice back into the universe. He really needed to know what had happened there, because all of his hopes for any sort of happiness in his future still seemed to rest on what exactly that meant. He had to break up their little love fest, if for no other reason than they were all still standing in the damn doorway and his duffel bag was starting to get heavy on his shoulder. Dean gave up on being invited into his own home and dropped the bag at his feet. He cringed, remembering too late about the pie resting atop everything else stuffed inside the bag, and glanced down to make sure he hadn't ruined everything. The sudden noise and movement was enough to startle Jack and Amara out of their little bubble, at least.

Amara looked down at the bag, and then up at Dean.

“Since we’re having this chat in the doorway, I figured I’d make myself comfortable. Is there some reason you two aren’t letting me inside?”

Jack frowned, but shook his head. “We thought this conversation was best held outdoors.”

“Okay, then,” Dean prompted, feeling the very long day catching up to him as the adrenaline rush of storming the bunker rapidly drained away. “So you brought some people back, fixed the universe, and then, what? Just let all the power go forever?”

Jack looked entirely pleased with himself. “We understood that as long as there was a consciousness controlling it, that there could never really be true freedom. Amara and I imposing our will on the universe was ultimately no different than Chuck doing the same thing. No matter how good our intentions might be, no matter that we might just want to use the power for good, we understood that it wasn’t our place to decide what would be good and what would be bad. Chuck thought he was doing good, after all. And only truly experiencing and understanding his power could we understand him.” Jack sighed and glanced at Amara, and she nodded encouragingly for him to continue. He looked back at Dean, square in the eye with all the confidence he could muster. “We knew it was only a matter of time before we would eventually feel compelled to step in and meddle with creation, the same way he did. And then the whole ugly story would repeat itself again.”

“The power of the universe, of all creation and destruction, is free now,” Amara added. “It’s not bound to a singular will. Everyone can choose the life they lead for themselves, and no one else can write the story of humanity except the people living it.”

“It’s not perfect,” Jack said. “But nothing about being human is perfect, and that’s the beauty of it.”

“Plus we’re both technically very young,” Amara interrupted again. “I might be ancient, but my experience of humanity is still new, as is Jack’s. Neither of us were ready to abandon the gift we’d both been given of exploring creation as it was meant to be appreciated.”

Dean stared back and forth between them as they started up their own conversation again, but he still didn’t have his answers. He was wondering if it would be rude to just sit down on his duffel bag, since it seemed like they were gonna be there for a while at this rate. Then he remembered the pie, and decided that would be a bad idea. Instead, he just chose to interrupt them again.

“This is all fascinating stuff, but why are we having this chat in the doorway again?”

Jack and Amara exchanged a significant glance, Amara suppressing a smile and letting Jack hopefully get to the point.

“We’re just us now. As far as we can tell, Amara is human, and I might be about as powerful as Rowena, but we’re both permanently cut off from cosmic power now. And so is the rest of creation. It’s a self-sustaining habitat now, but…” he looked to Amara again for encouragement, and she gave it with a little nod. “But we’re hoping that now that we’re both effectively human, that we might impose on your hospitality, at least until we figure out what to do with our lives.”

“Somehow I never thought I’d have to worry about things like food and shelter,” Amara said. “I could snap my fingers and have whatever I wanted. I never had human needs before, and I’m not entirely sure how to meet them as a human.” She hesitated for a moment, and then admitted, “I don’t even know how to drive.”

Dean blinked at them both. The black void in the pit of his stomach was opening wider as the last hope he’d held out for some way to bring Cas back was slipping away from him. He absolutely did not want to have his breakdown on the front steps with his adopted kid and his… his sort-of-ex, or whatever the hell Amara was to him. It took everything in him to hold himself together for just a little longer, until he could hear them out and convince them that all their needs could wait until at least Sam got home to be the semi-rational adult to help them sort their lives out and play career counselor while he went into full-blown Dean Winchester Grief Mode. 

“So let me get this straight. The two of you wanna crash here until you get your feet under you?”

Jack nodded, daring a little smile, so Dean pushed on, pausing only long enough to rub his forehead where the tingling of a headache was beginning to set in.

“And you need a place to crash because you’re both essentially human and powerless.”

Jack protested that assessment. “I have a little bit of power. It’s inherent in my nature, even without a true angelic aspect of my being. Angels were always just pieces of Chuck’s own power. He created them to serve him, and that service isn’t required with the universe restored to itself.”

Dean frowned. So maybe Cas wouldn’t even be able to exist in this new universe. Maybe that’s why Jack had ignored his prayer, and why neither of them had mentioned Cas in all their talk about putting things right. Maybe there just wasn’t a place for him in creation anymore. That thought hurt more than any of the dozens of scenarios Dean had allowed himself to consider. Of course, he wasn’t important in the grand scheme anymore, and what he wanted wouldn’t matter to the cosmic order anyway. Not like it had ever mattered much to Chuck’s story of creation, but at least it had mattered enough for him to keep sending Cas back to him. The last bit of hope he’d been clinging to slipped away, and Dean was officially out of patience for this conversation. He just wanted to get to his room and try to forget the last few days for at least a little while.

He had to clear his throat so his voice wouldn’t come out as broken as he felt, but he thought he managed it pretty well under the circumstances.

“Jack, you know you’re always welcome here. This is your home, too. You’re family, and you don’t gotta ask if you can have your old room back, okay?”

Jack took that as his invitation to finally give Dean a hug, like he’d been as anxious about his own welcome as Dean had been about pretty much everything else. The hug took Dean by surprise and didn’t last long. As Jack pulled away, Dean avoided looking right at him, and instead turned to Amara.

“I guess a room of your own is about the least we owe you, too, Amara. I mean, it’s been years since you tried to destroy the universe. Bygones and all that. And you tried to help us save it more than once, and paid a pretty steep price for it in the end.” Dean waved a hand at her, standing there all human and vulnerable and hopeful.

She shook her head. “My brother may have seen it as a steep price to pay, but I welcome it as a gift. And I thank you for your generous welcome. I’ve caused you enough grief, and your hospitality is more than I expected or deserve.”

Dean had no idea how to respond to that, so he just bent over and picked up his dropped bag. As he hefted it over his shoulder, he turned to Jack. “You think you can handle getting your Auntie Amara set up in one of the spare rooms for tonight? You’re welcome to whatever you can scrounge up in the kitchen if you’re hungry. Just make sure you both have whatever you need for the night. Sam and Eileen should be home in the morning.” Dean tried to step forward, hoping the two of them would let him pass, but they remained unmoved. “You should probably give Sam a call so he knows you’re here at least.”

If Dean had expected that prompt to send Jack off on that mission, he’d been sorely mistaken. Jack just stood there, still blocking the doorway, frowning at him like he expected Dean to have more to say. Dean waved a hand between them, resigning himself to being a bad host for just wanting to go hibernate in his room by himself. He hadn’t wanted to be alone before, but now it was pretty much all he wanted. Of course they were gonna make him spell that out for them, like the freshly minted human beings they were. Dean balked at the concept that he of all people had to be the one pushing etiquette on them at that late hour, but did it anyway.

“If you two don’t mind, it’s been a kind of long and shitty day, and I need to crash now.”

Jack and Amara exchanged a nervous glance, and Jack shifted on his feet.

“I hope you’re not too tired for one more thing,” he finally said, looking unsure of himself for the first time since the conversation had begun. He did, however, finally step inside, allowing Dean to follow him as Amara shut the door behind them. Dean resigned himself to whatever Jack was up to, and followed him down the stairs as Jack prattled on.

“Our final mission was to return to the Empty, to lay it to rest and put the last broken piece of the universe back together. Billie has been healed, and she is back to her job as Death.”

Dean stopped walking down the stairs, and Amara almost bumped into him. He turned to blink up at her on the step above him, and then gawped at Jack.

“You really think that was a good idea? After she tried to kill us all and become God herself?”

Amara rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder to reassure him. “She never wanted that for herself. She just wanted the natural order restored, and she knew Chuck would never let the power go. She was relieved to hear our plans, and there will be no new God, ever.”

Jack nodded, looking up at him from a few steps below. “Everything is in perfect balance now, and she has no reason to interfere with the world. Her job is only to maintain that order, and that’s all she wants to do.”

Dean gave him the disbelieving look that statement deserved, but Jack’s earnestness eventually got to him. “Fine, then. Whatever. As long as she’s gonna leave us all to die in our own natural time and not come back to kill a bunch of people we care about just for revenge, then that’s probably as good as we could hope for, right?”

“Eventually everything dies,” Jack replied. “But no, she won’t reap anyone before the natural end of their life. Anything else would throw the balance again, and she doesn’t want that.”

Dean went to take another step, and nearly missed the stair. Only in that moment did the very first part of Jack’s statement finally hit him.

“Wait, you were in the Empty? Tonight?”

Jack nodded again, looking pleased with himself that Dean had finally picked up on that detail. Dean couldn’t bring himself to ask if Jack had seen Cas. He wasn’t sure he could bear hearing that Cas couldn’t be brought back, or that he didn’t even want to come back. Instead of pressing Jack for answers, he just stood there frozen, staring at Jack like a deer in the headlights, waiting for the impact.

“We heard your prayer, while you were waiting in the car outside Eileen’s house,” Amara said. “Jack hoped the rain would be enough to let you know we’d heard you. But apparently it wasn’t.”

Dean whipped around so fast he almost stumbled down the last few steps again. “Wait, what?”

“We still had a lot to do before we could actually answer you, and we weren’t sure what Cas would choose for himself,” Jack replied, still not clearing anything up. “We didn’t want to give you false hope.”

Amara picked up the thread again. “It was essential that everyone was able to choose their own fate for themselves. It’s the baseline we established for the new natural order, after all.”

“And?” Dean asked, reaching the end of his rapidly fraying rope as the yoyo of emotions threatened to snap it entirely. He couldn’t believe they were making him drag it out of them. Were they trying to soften the blow or keep him in suspense? He still couldn’t tell and it was driving him insane, practically vibrating out of his skin with nerves.

Jack frowned at him, looking truly heartbroken. “It… it’s not obvious what he chose?”

That practically broke Dean, and he blurted out, “After you just told me there was no place for angels in the universe now? Not even in Heaven? No, it’s not fucking obvious, Jack.”

Just then, Cas appeared in the doorway to the bunker’s landing behind Jack, stunning Dean speechless. Jack grinned up at Dean, but Dean only had eyes for Cas, blinking and hoping he wouldn’t disappear again in that split second.

“I could’ve remained an angel and stayed in Heaven. A few of us apparently chose that option. But I wanted to be here,” Cas said. “To be human.” He hesitated for a moment, looking more unsure and hopeful than Dean had seen him in a while. “With you. If you’ll have me, that is...”

He didn’t even get to finish whatever he was about to say, because Dean had already pushed past Jack, dropped his bag again, and pulled Cas into a crushing hug.

“I told you this was the best way to do it,” Jack said, smiling at Cas over Dean’s shoulder.

Cas had stood rigidly rooted to the floor, and finally melted into Dean’s embrace, holding him back just as tightly.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that again,” Dean muttered. “And I really mean it this time. We got no more magical reset buttons, and you are _not_ allowed to sacrifice yourself for me again, you hear me?”

Cas nodded into Dean’s shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut to hold in his emotions. “Neither are you. You finally have what you always wanted, and you should be allowed to live with it.”

They didn’t let go of one another for a long minute or two. When Dean finally released him enough to get a good look at his face, he had to rein in the jumbled backlog of things he finally felt he could say to Cas. After all, they were still standing in a doorway with Jack and Amara watching on like the gooey-eyed audience of the finale of the Bachelor or something. What Dean had to say to Cas didn’t need an audience. Without fully letting go of him, Dean slowly turned around to see Jack and Amara both just standing and staring at them with heart eyes and warm smiles. He cleared his throat, bringing them back around to reality. He pointed a finger at Jack.

“You got everything under control?”

Jack nodded dutifully. “I’ll find Amara a room, make us a snack, and call Sam to fill him in on the current situation.”

Dean gave him an approving look, reaching out with the hand not still wrapped around Cas’s back to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“Good. Thank you,” Dean started, then had to clear his throat again as he glanced over at Cas standing beside him, real and solid and human and alive, and then back to Jack. “Seriously, thank you, for everything.”

“It’s what I was born to do,” Jack replied easily. “You’re welcome, anyway.”

Dean picked up his bag yet again, this time without letting go of Cas. He was about to guide them down the stairs into the bunker, but stopped just long enough to call out over his shoulder, “And maybe don’t let anyone disturb us until at least tomorrow afternoon. I don’t care if the entire planet is on fire, just give us until noon, at least.”

“Preferably later,” Cas added, and they descended the steps together, laughing giddily.

After they disappeared down the hallway toward Dean’s room, Jack turned to Amara. “They must be exhausted. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dean sleep longer than about four hours.”

Amara gave him a fond smile and hooked her arm through Jack’s. “So, tell me all about this Crunch Cookie Crunch.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, at the end of the beginning. Everything above could've been the finale we got, and this final chapter works as coda fic to that episode. There will be more, because this was just the beginning, and the universe is filled with endless possibility. But for now, let's let Dean and Cas make a few choices of their own...

Dean opened the door to his room, dragged Cas inside, and then shut the door behind him. He dropped his bag on the floor not even caring what happened to his precious pie anymore, and without another word pulled Cas into another hug. The two of them stood there clinging to one another for a long few minutes, letting the overwhelming flood of emotions process between them.

It had been a very long few days with barely a break to stop and think about anything. Dean wasn’t even sure exactly how long it had been since he and Jack had raced off to complete his transformation into the bomb that was supposed to have taken out Chuck, but it was honestly the last time he recalled any sort of feeling of normalcy before everything started going sideways. The only time he’d stopped long enough to even begin processing everything that had happened was during the drunken bender he’d allowed himself after Cas had… after he’d disappeared into the empty. Dean shuddered and clung tighter to Cas, now solid and real and here in his arms, beyond almost every last hope he’d held on to for the past few days. He didn’t need to think about the possibility that he’d never get to see Cas again.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that were no longer necessary and swallowed down the heartache he’d felt since that night. He loosened his grip on Cas just enough to be able to look at him again, and they both stared at each other with equal wonder, relief, and joy. In a quiet, broken voice, Dean finally spoke.

“You were really gonna just hold that back from me forever, until it was convenient to just drop it on me in a way I could never even answer to.”

It wasn’t a question, or even an accusation. It was just the hurt spilling out of him.

“You knew, for years, didn’t you. Knew how you felt and never said anything.” Dean searched Cas’s pleading eyes for answers. “And you really didn’t know I felt the same way the whole damn time?”

Cas shook his head slowly, disbelief clear on his face. “I… I hoped, that maybe someday when the world wasn’t destroying itself that you might be able to return my feelings for you. I knew there was something there. It was in your prayers all the way back in Purgatory, the first time.” Disbelief became sadness, possibly even grief. “But you said very different things out loud. I had to respect your words, not just your feelings.”

Dean let out an ugly little laugh. “No means no, right? To think I fell for the one angel who took the whole consent thing literally.”

Cas sighed. “When I was in the Empty, I heard fragments of your prayer to me. And you’re right, I did always seem to leave, but it was so difficult to stay knowing how I felt about you and that you couldn’t feel the same about me.”

Dean frowned, trying to remember what he’d rambled on about. It felt like days ago, maybe another lifetime, rather than just a few hours. He was about to correct Cas’s assumption when Cas barreled on.

“It’s a fair complaint, though,” Cas reflected and then frowned. “I believe I missed a fair bit of your words since the Entity was keeping me distracted at the time, but I did hear you say some unsettling things. You nearly didn’t survive last time I was gone? You mean last time I was in the Empty?”

Dean let out a choked sob and gripped onto Cas more tightly. “Of everything you could’ve heard, why’d it have to be that?” He took a deep breath and told Cas the briefest possible account of his weeks of grieving culminating in his attempt to end his life and Billie’s refusal to let him. “And then, out of the blue, you called me and you were back, and everything was great for like a day and a half.”

Cas frowned, but nodded, giving Dean a tentative reassuring squeeze. “And then everything fell apart again.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, it tended to do that a lot.”

Cas leaned in closer, looked right into Dean’s eyes, and said with utter seriousness. “Chuck is no longer capable of upending our lives for fun and profit.”

“Fuck, I missed you, Cas,” Dean said with an adoring smile.

Cas smiled back at him, and they returned to their quiet place of happiness together for a moment, until Dean remembered what they’d been talking about, and remembered the rest of what he’d prayed to Cas. He cleared his throat, wondering just how much more he actually needed to say, if anything.

“So… was that all you heard?”

Cas searched his memory, and landed on the line that left him screaming into the void just before Jack arrived and roused him. “I believe you resigned yourself to the fact that we would never have anything more than that. It… was an agonizing revelation at the time, and I’d hoped it was a fiction the Entity dreamed up to torture me with, but it felt like you…”

As Cas spoke, a look of horror spread over Dean’s face, and he reached up and rested his hands on Cas’s cheeks to look him in the eye.

“No, no no no. Cas, you didn’t hear what came before that?”

Cas shook his head, confused. “I guess not.”

“Oh my god,” Dean muttered, closing his eyes for a moment against the necessity of repeating himself at his most vulnerable. He’d wished he could’ve said it to Cas’s face before, and now that he finally could, the very thought of it was terrifying. He reminded himself it was nowhere near as terrifying as facing the prospect of having to live the rest of his life without Cas, of knowing he was in the Empty and effectively alone forever, and he let that steel his nerves. “You have no idea how long I’ve been holding that in, and the last time I tried to say it out loud you stopped me.”

Cas looked at him with confusion, still clearly not understanding what Dean was trying to say, or even what he was referring to. Dean babbled on, mostly because he couldn’t stop himself from working it all out on his own, but a part of him hoped Cas would get it, too, and make this a little less difficult.

“But of course you stopped me, because even then it would’ve meant insta-death by black goo, right? If you’d let me just blurt it all out then you wouldn’t have even had a chance to explain, and I’d have been left standing there alone and helpless in monsterland...”

Cas’s eyes went wide. “You mean in Purgatory? I… I wasn’t entirely sure what you were going to say, but after the rest of your prayer there, I couldn’t risk it, no. Were you… what were you going to tell me, Dean?”

Dean just laughed, high and giddy, and let his hands slide from Cas’s face into his hair, around the back of his neck. “I was going to tell you that I loved you. I told you in that prayer tonight, because I thought that was the best I could do anymore, thought it might be the only chance I got to tell you now.”

Cas blinked at him and caught his breath. “Dean…”

“I love you, too, Cas,” Dean said. “I don’t know why you ever thought you couldn’t have this, if you wanted it. I just had no idea you even  _ could _ want it. Maybe for that short time you were human, but everything else in the universe was standing in the way back then. And before I got my shit together, you were an angel again and I didn’t think you could even need me that way anymore.”

“Dean… I…”

Dean smiled fondly at him as Cas completely failed at words. Maybe it was a side effect of being newly human again, like some sort of shock to his system, but Dean found it utterly endearing that he’d finally rendered Cas speechless in the best possible way.

“So if I’m still the one thing you want, you need to know you can absolutely have me,” Dean said. “You’ve had me for years, actually.”

Cas gave up trying to come up with words and closed the few inches between them to plant a kiss on Dean’s lips. At the sudden burst of affection, Dean startled and Cas tried to pull back. Dean wouldn’t allow him to think the kiss was unwelcome or inappropriate, and chased after his mouth until he was sure Cas fully understood his feelings were reciprocated. They pulled apart after a few long minutes, breathless and dazed with wonder, smiling uncontrollably.

“So you really chose to come back without any idea if I even returned your feelings?” Dean asked, their foreheads pressed together now. “Drop the love bomb on me and run, and hope I’d just be okay with it now?”

“You seem fairly okay with it,” Cas replied. “I didn’t worry that you’d banish me from your life, but I did worry that it might make things awkward between us at first if you wanted to continue our relationship as it was before.”

“Hah, awkward is one word for it,” Dean said, a smile lighting his face again. “And I do want our relationship to continue as it was before. Maybe with less of you running off and dying, and more kissing, but we’ve been good together for years.”

Cas sighed, nodding just enough to bump their noses together, which had the added benefit of making Dean laugh again. “I’d prefer there to be fewer arguments and less anger, but I suppose if you’re having regular sexual release that should be less of an issue in general.”

Dean sputtered, rearing back and blinking in shock. “Did… did you just proposition me, Cas?”

Cas grinned at him. “I believe I did. Is it working?”

“Dude, I practically dragged you to my room and told Jack not to bother us until at least tomorrow. You had me at hello.”

“I understood that reference.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean replied, leaning in for a quick kiss before finally letting go of Cas enough to slip out of his coat. “We got all the time in the world now, so we’re gonna work on your banter.”

Cas watched him and frowned. “Does that mean the proposition attempt was unsuccessful?”

Dean pulled him back into a tight embrace and shuffled him over to the edge of the bed. “Nah, it just means you’re probably gonna have to keep working on it. Probably every day for the rest of our lives.”

Cas smiled at him and loosened his tie. “I believe I can live with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi, and thanks for reading!
> 
> Anyone notice the title? And the name of the series I've begun with this fic? Yes, I ripped myself off (go read my fic Revenge of the Subtext for edification). :'D The story has all been told, the text was all there to make this ending 100% plausible (at least I like to think it's far more plausible than the actual finale). The text will have its revenge now. The story had all been right there, and for whatever reason the show decided not to let it happen. Well, I did.
> 
> There's nothing else immediately planned for this 'verse, but I wanted to make sure it remained an open canon for myself. I will be writing more for it, but my first priority was in just establishing a baseline Good Ending To Me so that I could carry on actually loving this show. It's been incredibly liberating.
> 
> You can always find me on the tumbls, probably grumbling about Supernatural . I'm [mittensmorgul](https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com). The rebloggable post for this fic can be found [right here](https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/640042849234190337/words-25427-rating-t-summary-picking-up-from).


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